The Armageddon
by SuperSwanky69
Summary: The time has come. The nations and peoples who have been humiliated and betrayed have had enough of remaining silent. They will finally enact a plan 70 years in the making, one that will tear the planet apart. And the world knows nothing, blind and ignorant; they shall feel the wrath of Armageddon.
1. Prologue Pt1

Place:?

Time: 1945

The large conference room was quiet except for the ominous chiming from the old grandfather clock leaning against the wall. Only one light was on, just bright enough to reveal the three figures sitting by the table but also dim enough to keep their faces hidden in the shadows. On the table a map lay spread out. Most of the world shown was covered in a light blue, with only a few countries covered in black. The three figures stared at the map, and from the scowls on their faces, they were not in a happy mood.

"So is this the end," The first man muttered. He wore a camouflaged windproof jacket, zipped down enough to see the oily black uniform underneath. Covering the top of his head was a just as black beret, with a metallic Death's Head glinting in the yellow light. Compared to his two compatriots, who wore simpler field uniforms he was the most fashionably dressed.

A cigarette hung off his lips, breathing in and then exhaling the grey smoke through his nose.

"This is the end," The first man repeated, glaring at the map of the world, "Years of hard work and suffering, gone in an instant!" He roared, smacking his fist against the table. He took another drag of his cigarette, covering the entire room in a light grey haze.

"I completely agree," The second man chimed in, "We were too weak to stand up to the Allies." looking slightly irritated by the smoke. He coughed, and then glanced at the first man to see if he noticed.

The first man didn't seem to notice. He continued to glare at the map, the hatred he held for the object seemed to grow even more. "It wasn't just that," He growled, "It's all the Germans' fault that we're in this state! All this time he's been doing whatever he wants, he's been playing us for his own self gratification!"

He laughed bitterly. "Do you know how humiliating it is to stick by him for all these years, going through the same trials and tribulations only for him to blame all of his failures on me while simultaneously stealing credit for what I did?" He put his hands over his face, crying and cursing Germany, "He took advantage of me, he took advantage of all of us, and he doesn't even acknowledge it!"

The second man nodded in sympathy, patting the first man's shoulder. "He supplied weapons and training to the mainland bastard while I was fighting him," He added his own two cents, almost hissing out the sentence, "He looked down on me for who I am…" he sighed.

"He invaded Me! After years of being in his shadow he stabbed me in the fucking back!" The first man swore aloud, before turning to face the third figure. His angry demeanor turned to one of embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to curse in front of a lady~" He chuckled sheepishly.

The woman let out a little laugh, running her hand through her long, wavy hair. She scooted over and patted the first man on the head, smiling sweetly at him. "Don't worry about it, hun. I feel the same way," Her smile disappeared, sighing and biting her lip, "He pressured me to join the war on his side, and then invaded me once he figured out I had enough of this shit. How dare he act all arrogant around us.." she was shaking, and the first man wrapped his arm around her shoulders to comfort her. He patted her hand, and she gripped it

"How fucking dare he treat us like shit and then expect us to bow down to him!" The woman was near exploding as well.

"I'm more worried about the American bastard. He's caused me innumerable pain throughout the years, and I don't think he's ready to stop anytime soon," The second man stared at the two of them, "Once he's on the warpath he won't stop until he's the only one left."

"Don't even get me started on America and England!" The first man snarled, "That Anglo bastard stabbed me in the back. He's the reason I had to ally with the German in the first place!" He slammed the map with his fist several times, even going as far as to lunge forward to rip it in half, only to be restrained by the woman.

"Please calm down! There's no use getting upset," The woman cried out, pulling the man back, "Let's think rationally. There's nothing we can do right now, we're too weak." She pulled him into an embrace, caressing his face.

The first man froze, pondering on the last statement the woman made. Before long, a wide grin stretched itself across his cheeks. "Of course!" He exclaimed, hugging the woman back. He even kissed her cheek, to which the woman let out a little flustered gasp. He looked at the second man, who looked confused as to the sudden rise in confidence.

"We may be weak now, but if there's one thing us nations have is…." The first man tipped his head towards the other man, whose expression changed from bewilderment to a sudden realization.

"Time. We have time," The second man muttered, his emotionless face finally cracking a smile, "We just have to bide our time until we can have our revenge?"

"Yes," The first man sneered, inhaling on his cigarette, "This war is almost over, but if we all keep a low profile for the next several decades, we can rebuild our strength until the time is right."

"But when will that be? And there's only three of us, how can we stand up to Germany and America?" The woman had a little frown on her face, "And you can't forget England or Russia, they're powerhouses as well."

"Oh, I can think of plenty of potential allies to join our little group," The first man's arrogant expression grew, "Look at Feliks. How many times has he been partitioned by his neighbors? I'm sure he's not very happy being under the Russian's foot again. And the Baltics as well. I don't think they enjoy being nothing more than underlings for the Russian once more. Or how about Emma? Twice she's been invaded by the German, I bet she's still fuming under that cheerful mask. Oh, and Katyusha and Eoin? Both of them have had hell under Russia and England."

He glanced at the other two, who were staring at him, "Are those examples enough for you?"

The second man nodded his head, looking convinced but still not very confident of this proposed idea. "In terms of raw strength, we will be at a disadvantage," He solemnly reported.

"We'll do what Germany did before the war: secretly build up our strength, test them out in proxy wars, establish secret trade agreements and treaties, except on a much grander scale," The first man chuckled. He stopped talking to cough up a lung full of smoke. He wiped tears away from his eyes and continued. "We'll have to deceive everyone else, make sure they think we're weak and irrelevant.

"Besides, that won't be the only thing. Sure, they may be stronger than us, but what we'll have is a vision," His grin quickly faded away, only to be replaced by a scowl. His voice began to rise again, his eyes narrowing into a wrathful gaze. "A world where the weak will no longer be abused and manipulated by the powerful. I want to destroy those nations that force their will on others, those that covet strength above all else!

"What I want is to change this world! I want-" he paused, taking in a deep breath, "a new World War," He took no notice of his compatriots' shocked faces. "A war so horrible and so inhumane, it will destroy the current world order."

"But-" the woman sputtered. "We've already had two, if there's another-"

"This is why we will lay low for decades, to prepare ourselves for the final battle," The first man interjected, "not only ourselves but our entire national psyche, the people will be ready to defeat those that have oppressed us for so long."

His smirk returned, this time more darker and filled with a malice unseen before. "They will not be prepared for our fury. They will crumble before our unending desire for revenge," There was a glint of conviction in his eye as he looked at his two friends, "What say you, my best friends? Will you join my crusade?"

The second man sat in his seat, silent as a stone statue, though his face showed that he was fighting conflicted emotions. It was after some time passed that his eyes snapped open, his voice steady and deadset.

"I have suffered for the last four decades because of a certain someone. If I must suffer a few more years to finally destroy him and attain eternal peace, then I am willing to do so," The second man smiled and nodded his head towards the first man, "I'm in."

"I've had enough of people bossing me around too!" The woman exclaimed, standing up much to the surprise of the men, "I want to show those bastards that I'm not one to underestimate!" She stared down at the first man. "I'm in."

"Good," the first man stuck the cigarette on top of Germany on the world map, "The world will fear the day Armageddon strikes."

* * *

**Hello, it is me again! Yes, it's been how many years? Two since I've been active? I have been a busy man, and unfortunately I don't think I'll continue any other story I have started. For those that do not know me, hello, I am SuperSwanky! I've written a story for Hetalia before, but this is the first of this caliber. Though I've had this idea for a very long time, I was inspired by BlazeSilvermage VIII's Dawn of the New Order and Patient Harmony's Ve, We Totally Fooled You to start writing this story. They have both written two amazing series and since I've always wanted to write something like this I decided to give this a go! This will be a very serious story for those who could not tell. I hope you are all excited to read this as I am to write it, this will be a journey we will both embark on! If you enjoy this story please review, it will really help and encourage me to keep writing!**

**Oh yes, if you know who these three people are please do not spoil it in the comments below. I relish the suspense! And so, my time here is finished. Until next time, Adios! **


	2. Prologue Pt2

The three figures stood in the pitch black room, their silhouettes illuminated by the wall mounted screen. It showed a map of the world, many regions completely covered in black. There were many more black dots scattered across the globe, blinking brightly against the blue background. Certain nations were engulfed in red, the main targets of the upcoming war. The first man looked at the screen, a devilish smile growing on his face.

"Seventy years," The first man murmured just vocal enough for his associates to hear, as they turned their heads away from the screen to look at his vicious grin. His narrow eyes flickered to the right, where the second man stood. "We've waited for seventy years, recruiting nations and planning our great revolution, our Armageddon."

"These past decades have been rough for all of us. Soviet and American occupations, the Cold War and countless civil strife and disasters. Many of us suffered worse than others," The second man nodded his head in a slight bow. He glanced at the woman, who was on the left of the first man.

"Yeah, you could say that," The woman scoffed. She blew a couple strands of her brown hair out of her face, planting her hands on her hips. "But it also gave us lots of new recruits."

She let out a little chuckle. "America and Russia really gave us the opportunity on a silver platter."

"Thank goodness for their brutish nature, we ought to thank them for it, though I wonder if we should before we kill them? Let them realize that they brought their deaths upon themselves?" The first man's look darkened, "No matter. What matters is that decades of hard work and secrecy have led to this exact moment. Lady and gentleman, here it is, Armageddon!" He exclaimed loudly, with the woman and second man letting out an excited cheer and clapping their hands.

He pulled out a phone from his left breast pocket. Turning it on, it revealed a text chat, with a text complete and ready to be sent.

"Let the show begin," The first man muttered as his thumb made contact with the "send" button, and in an instant several dozens of nations' phones buzzed with the notification to begin World War III.

* * *

**And the Prologue is finished! The three nations have recruited countless others into their grand conspiracy, ready to unleash the greatest conflict onto an unsuspecting world. I know this is a little short, but I promise you next chapter will be much longer. I hope you're ready for the beginning of an amazing journey. And Thank you for Vexey1999 for leaving a review, it really does help! If you like this story please review, favorite and follow, it will mean so much to me! And so until next chapter, adios!**


	3. It begins

The phone on the nightstand had been vibrating for the past few minutes, stirring the half naked individual to an awake and irritated state. He yawned, angrily mumbling to himself as he leaned over as fast as he could to grab his phone. If it was anything other than something important to him as a nation, he was just going to ignore it and go back to bed. However, once he turned the phone on and took a cursory glance at the screen, all the sleep in him quickly vanished. His eyes widened in shock over the contents of the message

"Armageddon," he muttered softly, as if it was some sort of spell. Was it really time? Has the day where he will exact revenge on Russia for centuries of torment finally come? He rubbed his eyes and looked again to make sure. No, he was correct the first time.

He smiled, perhaps subconsciously. He couldn't contain the joy, the excitement he felt. He had been part of what could be called the greatest conspiracy in history, preparing in secret under the noses of the entire world for what seemed like an eternity.

He was ready to show Russia the anger and hatred that's been boiling inside of him for all the genocides and deportations that happened. He couldn't stand the smug look of that tall bastard when he was ordering him and the rest of the Baltics around like dogs. Oh, he hated Russia, and despised Germany, England and the other Western powers for allowing Russia to terrorize him and his friends in the first place.

"Toris," the high-pitched voice from behind him made the Lithuanian freeze. He quickly put the phone down and turned to face the semi-nude woman in his bed. She was rubbing her eyes and pushing her long platinum blonde hair from out of her face. "What is it?" She asked, blinking her dark blue eyes at him.

"It's just some political bs," Lithuania tensed up. He rolled over to be face to face with her. "Don't worry about it, Natalya." He lied through his teeth.

"Does that mean you'll stay in bed?" Belarus, who usually held a harsh expression softened her frown. She reached her arm out to him. He hesitated, before taking her hand.

"It means I can stay for a bit longer than usual," Lithuania smiled warmly at her.

"That's good enough for me," She smiled back. She looked at Lithuania with such love and care in her eyes.

Lithuania almost couldn't believe that the once brutal Russia obsessed-woman he was in love with for so long actually requited his feelings. It only took being forcibly rejoining the USSR after World War II that the two were finally able to go from simply neighbors to acquaintances, then close friends and then to partners…

Which was why he was lucky that he was allowed to pursue his love from the organization he was in, the same organization behind the Armageddon. They had thought that Belarus would get in the way of the Armageddon, but his loyalty to the cause was unwavering. Revenge on Russia was too good of an offer to just simply wave off; he was going to exact vengeance for every day, every year of hell he had to endure.

Of course Belarus had no clue of the existence of the Armageddon, or for the Organization for that matter. Everytime he brought up the subject of revenge against Russia and whomever else she waved it off; Russia was still her big brother after all, and she would do nothing of the sort to hurt him. The fact that she and Russia were siblings hurt Lithuania a lot.

It was also a heavy obstacle for his plan to exact his revenge on Russia, he knew she would throw a fit if she found out. He silently cursed Estonia and Latvia for having no such hurdles in their own plans.

"Toris?" Belarus asked, and Lithuania snapped out of his thoughts. She looked concerned, her large eyes boring down on him. "Are you okay?"

Lithuania must have let his feelings out via facial expressions, and he cursed himself for letting it happen. He forced a smile.

"I'm fine!" He pulled her close in for an embrace, "Just a bit tired is all."

Belarus must have not expected it, for she let out a surprised squeal. "Don't worry about it," She whispered, "I'm sure whatever you have to do is going to go fine. I'll support whatever you do."

"Thank you," Lithuania's forced smile turned to a genuine one. He kissed her, gently wrapping her body with his arms. He was sure the Armageddon was going to go smoothly. And Belarus would be none the wiser.

* * *

The tall blonde stood against the crisp morning wind, his blue overcoat blowing in conjunction. His blue-green eyes gazed through his glasses at the Baltic Sea that spread across the horizon, a dark orange color due to the sunrise.

Yes, it was his sea. That was the promise he was given by the organization, to control the Baltic and everything around it. There was a reason why he was called the "Supreme Ruler of Scandinavia" so long ago, a title he longed to reclaim. Despite remaining officially neutral for over two centuries, he had made sure he was always ready for a brutal fight. He had watched the countries around him beat each other to a bloody pulp, and had even somewhat participated in the fights himself, working with Germany in particular during the World Wars, but did work for the Allies as well.

He shivered and shoved his hands into his pockets. Maybe he shouldn't have gotten up so early and gone on a sunrise walk. He sighed and turned away from the seaside, his black marching boots crushing pebbles on the trail back to his beach house.

When he got to the small two story house a young blonde headed man waved to him from the front porch, holding what seemed to be a tray of food.

"Berwald, I made breakfast for you!" The blonde shouted.

"You shouldn't have," Sweden smiled as he climbed up the stairs. He collapsed onto a chair, which under the sudden increase of weight let out a dangerously loud creak. "Whatcha make for me?"

"I made some porridge with jam and sugared butter, egg-buttered mashed Karelian pies, knäckebröd and some filmjölk with muesli! And of course you can't forget the coffee!" Finland grinned, presenting his breakfast tray.

"That is a big breakfast," Sweden chuckled, looking up at the cheerful Finn.

"You're a big man!" Finland retorted with a laugh, himself holding a coffee cup in his hands.

"Thank you," Sweden uttered as he began to chew through the knäckebröd, "Are the others awake yet?" He glanced back up at the shorter man. Finland was by far the closest, trusted friend he's ever had. They've been through thick and thin together, and even after Russia had forcibly taken Finland away from him they remained close. He Had even helped Finland in his civil war and the Winter War. He held close feelings for Finland, no one else in the world mattered to him as much as he did.

"No, they're all asleep. I made them breakfast as well for them when they wake up," Finland replied as he sat down next to Sweden, "Matthias took over the couch, Eiríkur is underneath the table, Lukas is muttering in his sleep in the guest bed and Peter is snuggled up with Hanatamago in a blanket. He's still just a little kid, isn't he?" He giggled at the last part.

"Yeah, he is," Sweden's mouth curved slightly. He took a spoonful of porridge when the insides of his jacket began to vibrate. "Excuse me." He grumbled as he pulled out his phone. He nearly choked on the porridge upon reading the text. Armageddon? Now? Are they finally issuing the order he's been waiting for so long?

"Berwald, are you alright?" Finland jerked his head at the sound of Sweden spitting out his food.

"Tino," he gasped, "I'm...okay." Sweden quickly nodded his head, wiping his eyes and mouth. He slipped his phone back into his jacket, his heart pounding with great intensity. Here he was on vacation with the rest of the Nordic countries, and then suddenly he got a text message telling him that the greatest revolution had begun. He never could catch a break.

Especially now that Finland was right there. He nor the others had any inkling of what Sweden was up to. Sweden had no intention of hurting any of them, just to bring them under his control to protect them. He had seen them being invaded and conquered during the Second World War, and he vowed to never let that happen ever again. Sure, they may not understand, they might turn against him but he didn't want them to be hurt anymore.

Maybe he could even convince them to join him in this crusade. They've had gripes with their bigger neighbors, especially Russia and Germany. Perhaps if he stirred up memories of the Second World War and in Finland's case additionally being Russia's territory for a century they would willingly aid him destroy Russia once and for all. He took a bite of a Karelian pie, swallowing it.

"Tino…." Sweden muttered.

"Yes, Ber?" Tino's eyes sparkled, and the Swede's heart fluttered even more.

"Have you ever...thought about Russia recently?" Sweden asked quietly enough, so much so that he thought Finland wouldn't hear, somewhat hoping he didn't.

Finland's mouth twitched, meaning he had.

Finland sighed, scooting closer to Sweden. "I try not to. I'm not a fan of him, believe me. He's been an ass to me in the past, and yeah that's straining but we've been patching things up recently. But-" he looked up at Sweden with loving eyes. "I will never leave you for him, trust me on that. I'll stick by your side no matter what."

"No matter what?" Sweden arched his eyebrows.

"No matter what," Finland nodded. Sweden felt himself smile.

* * *

Somewhere in a cabin hidden away in the desolate wastelands of Russia, one woman sat alone by the fireplace, humming happily to herself as she stared at her phone. Though she was pale it was obvious she didn't originate from the north, as exemplified from the silky dress she wore and the headscarf tossed haphazardly on the couch, letting her long black hair flow down freely. She sighed happily, thanking her Siberian comrade that she was able to escape her native land of Chechnya.

It wasn't that she hated her country; on the contrary, she loved it more than anything in the world. She loved the mountains and valleys and the people she represented.

No, she hated what it had become. It was because of the filthy mudak that her country became a hotbed of corruption and terror. Yes, she had spread terror herself, but that had been a response to what she had to endure for centuries. She never wanted to hurt anyone at all, she had been against it from the beginning, but it was him that sent so many of her people to their deaths, invaded her lands and caused so much misery throughout the years. Yes, he had to answer for his crimes, for daring to call himself the "representative" of the same people he had tried to eradicate.

This was why she had eagerly jumped at the opportunity when she was offered a chance to take part in Armageddon. She couldn't believe there were so many nations that were taking part, that so many sympathized with her plight. For the first time in what seemed forever, she was finally part of a community.

She smirked at the message she had sent a few hours ago, to her co-conspirators that live in the Russian Federation. It was easy to recruit so many of her fellow subjects, as they had suffered the same treatment from their Slavic overlords. They all had found a cause to unite behind; to burn Russia from the inside out.

Chechnya smiled to herself as she stared at her phone; she had just gotten the message to begin Armageddon, and had just sent a text to all of her "Russian" comrades to come to her cabin to prepare for the upcoming operation. It would take a while though, as she had hidden herself in such an isolated area so she would have to wait a couple of hours at the least. She sighed, humming a hymn as she waited for her friends to arrive. Within the hour, there was a knock at the door, and she almost tripped on the hard rug on her way to let the person in.

"Hello Hadijat, am I early?" A woman stood before her, pushing herself into Chechnya's chest with a little giggle. She wore a white dress, with a beautiful blue zybyn coat and a similarly blue fez. She moved her long black braids from out of her face as she looked up with her large murky brown eyes, eliciting a faint blush from the standing Chechen.

"Yeah, you're the first to arrive, Bayaz," Chechnya laughed as she pulled the shorter woman inside, "How have you been, my little Tatar Ocpocmaq?" She kissed her affectionately on the cheek.

Tatarstan puffed her cheeks upon being called her pet name. "Don't call me that-" She couldn't finish her sentence when she let out a loud yelp as Chechnya picked her up and carried her to the couch.

"Oh don't play dumb I know you like it!" Chechnya placed her on the couch and sat down herself, "How come I'm the only person you don't smack when you get called that? You've missed the little pet name haven't you?" From Tatarstan's expression it was clear she was correct.

"Don't worry, I've missed you too," She snuggled next to Tatarstan, pulling her into an embrace. She muttered into her ear. "I'm sorry we haven't been able to talk much. You know we can't be seen together."

"It's not your fault," Tatarstan sniffled. She wiggled into the bigger woman's chest. "We're here for a reason, aren't we? We'll be allowed to be openly together after this is all over!" She joyfully proclaimed.

"Yes, we will. We'll overthrow the foreign tyrants and their oppressive laws," Chechnya nodded, smirking, "We can destroy the Ruskie that made our lives hell together." She kissed Tatarstan on the nose. "Perhaps that can be our honeymoon." Tatarstan squealed at the suggestion.

"Oh yes, that would be wonderful!" Tatarstan exclaimed, "Letting him see our happiness as he dies is a wonderful way of revenge!" She whimpered when Chechnya put her lips on her neck. "Oh, I've missed you~" She sang.

"I've missed you too. We have lots of catching up to do," Chechnya smirked.

* * *

The Blonde woke up in his fluffy queen-sized bed, blindly reaching for his glasses on his headstand. He yawned, stretching his well chiseled body. He blinked several times before putting his glasses on, stretching his hand to the empty part of the bed as it tried to pat someone on the shoulder. He looked around the room before realizing the door of the bedroom was open, a delicious smell wafting from the kitchen.

He threw on his bathrobe and stumbled into the kitchen to be faced by a woman in a bathrobe herself. She was shorter than him, her black braided hair reaching down to her hip and her golden skin contrasted sharply with his white complexion. She smiled when she noticed him, halting her chopping of vegetables.

"Morning, sleepy head," The woman cooed sweetly at him, her words pronounced by her South East Asian accent, "How is my little Alfie doing?"

"I'm doing good babe," America laughed as he bent down to kiss her forehead. He picked her off of her feet and twirled around once before setting her back down again. He looked at the counter, smiling at the food laid upon the counter. "Whoah, is this what you were making? Looks good!"

"Well, it was going to be a surprise breakfast but you woke up earlier than expected!" The woman giggled and blushed.

"Well, it's certainly much better than the stuff I usually eat," America stared at the vegetables, meat and white rice laid out on the plate, "Man, I usually have an egg Mcmuffin or something but you really blow that out of the water."

"Oh, really?" The woman's sharp eyes darted up to his face, the blue eye color radiating joy. "That makes me happy!"

"Yeah, you make me happy Bian," America winked at her and began to walk towards the table, "I'm glad you decided to stick by me all these years."

Bian smiled faintly as she followed him, holding the plate with his breakfast. "Yeah, so am I!" She replied, "At least you aren't my sister." She muttered under her breath.

America didn't hear this comment, looking excited at the food being placed in front of him. But it was when he picked up his fork when he felt a painful jolt course through his body. He cried out in pain and dropped the fork, which clattered on the plate.

Bian screamed and rushed over to him."Alfred, what's wrong?" her voice was filled with concern. She grabbed his shoulder as he groaned in pain.

America leaned on the table, his face and hands red and slippery with sweat. "I...I don't know. But something is happening," He stared at her with pain and worry, "Something is happening to my states. And it's not good…"

* * *

The woman sat on the porch of the little house, the sun beating down on her relentlessly despite the chilly weather. She looked out at the endless countryside in front of her, devoid of any other humans or even animals, only rolls of hay sitting quietly. She strummed on her guitar, chewing on some sunflower seeds, spitting them out like a semi-auto rifle into the ground below her. On the ground was a guitar, its head covered by a simple straw hat.

She yawned as a black pickup truck came approaching her farm. It swerved to the edge of the driveway, kicking up a huge cloud of dirt. The engine went quiet and the door opened, and a tall man in a tan ten gallon hat marched right up to the woman, who stood up and flipped her braided ponytail. She smirked, as if she knew what he was here for.

The man knelt down, looking up at her. "It's time, isn't it ma'am?" He asked, the sunlight glinting off his square glasses.

"It is. Gather the others, it's time to put the plan into action," The woman tapped her leather boots against the hard-wood surface, pulling out her phone and showed him the text she had received.

"Yes ma'am," The man stood up, tipping his hat, "Shall we have morning brunch as well?"

"Yes, let's do that," The woman looked at him, before giving him a satisfied grin.

* * *

**Ocpocmaq is ****is a Tatar national and Bashkirs dish, an essential food in Tatar and Bashkir culture. It is a triangular pastry filled with minced beef, onion and potatoes. Ocpocmac is usually eaten with Bouillon and tea(taken from Wikipedia).**

**Hello! I'm back again, sorry for the absence, I was extremely busy, with school, job and a winter break in Japan, but now hopefully I can continue to work on this story from now on. I hope you all had a wonderful holidays and are enjoying 2020 so far! Anyways, the plot is heating up, the conspiracy is beginning to act. What will happen to the rest of the world once they unleash their fury? Stay tuned for the next chapter of the Armageddon! **

**If you like this story, please follow and comment! It really does help me and give me confidence to keep writing. Until then, adios amigo!**

**Edit; I am so sorry for everyone who has seen the story repeat twice, I was making an edit and the website was not being the most cooperative.  
**


	4. A growing conspiracy

**thank you BlazeSilverMageVIII for actually reviewing! Definitely did not expect that at all! Anyways, chapter two, here we are! **

* * *

Germany sat in his study watching the rain dance across his window. His mind was too preoccupied with doing anything else, the book on his desk lay open and abandoned. He was concerned about the action, or lack thereof from a growing number of nations across the world, especially those in Eastern Europe. The past few days those countries had ceased contact with the rest of the world; borders were sealed, embassies cut off, flights canceled and international calls stopped. He had tried calling those countries directly, but most ended up going to voicemail. The ones he was able to contact, such as Estonia and Ukraine simply reassured him that nothing was wrong, it was only some internal unrest, blaming Russia as per usual.

He sighed. He didn't want to push them too much, seeing that they were already having their hands filled. But he wondered why they didn't ask for help, it was what other European countries did. He didn't mind helping, he did see himself as the leading figure of the continent after all, of course he'd be all too happy to help them. But the Eastern Europeans were more independent, they like doing things their own way rather than rely on him.

It didn't help that he himself was feeling a bit off lately. He furrowed his eyebrows as his forehead began to hurt once more, feeling as someone was pressing against him. He turned on the tv, and just as he feared it was another assassination of a politician in downtown Dresden. For some reason the crime rate in certain parts of the nation skyrocketed, most of them robberies and arsons but even the worst case scenarios of serial killings and assassinations were now common. The police were constantly on high alert, yet crimes continued to rise across the country.

He stood up, rubbing his temples. He hasn't felt this bad since...the war. He groaned. This wasn't supposed to be happening in this day and age. He's been taking more medicine against the wishes of his older brother but what else could he really do? He was a nation, but not even that stopped him from being affected by ailments. On the contrary, whenever he became sick the economy tumbled, and conversely whenever something bad happened in his country it would personally affect him as well.

So the fact that he was in such a condition could lead to a domino effect in Europe, being the de-facto leader of the European continent and all. Other countries could be affected by his affliction.

That reminded him, the UN meeting was coming up soon. Maybe he could address this issue, if he wasn't too sick to go in the first place. Deciding he should tell someone, he pulled out his phone and dialed France's number.

"Oui, why so early in the morning~" the Frenchman's usually smooth voice was raspy and tired.

"France, what the hell happened to your voice?" Germany was suddenly more concerned for his French counterpart than himself.

"I don't know, I woke up with a bad cough," France groaned, "I'm not in the best condition right now."

Germany's eyes widened. Was there already an effect spreading across the continent?

"Are you serious?" Germany rubbed the bridge of his nose, "France, what kind of troubles are you having right now?"

"A terrorist attack in Strasbourg," France sounded even more dejected, "Assassinations of politicians in Nancy and Brest." he sighed. "I don't know what the hell is going on…"

"My god," Germany muttered, pausing for a moment, "I feel a bit off too, you know. I've got problems in my cities as well."

"Oh jeez, Arthur and Antonio said the same thing," France muttered, the worry in his voice growing.

"Shit," Germany swore, turning to his computer and searching up "United Kingdom news", his expression souring even more at the headlines of tragedy in Derry and Belfast splattered across the page. A search for Spain turned up in the news of riots in Barcelona. "Take a look at this," Germany snapped a photo of the various news sites, sending them to France.

"Jesus Christ," Germany heard France mutter over the phone in disbelief, "I didn't think it was this bad! Is this happening all over the world?"

"I have no clue. I think the first thing we should do is check for news in Europe in general," Germany replied, putting in different countries in the search bar. For now, no other European country was going through such stress as they were. If they were, it wasn't online.

It was when he was about to type in Italy when he stopped.

"Feli…" Germany muttered. Italy, that strange, adorable little pasta loving man. He was Germany's best friend for sure, standing with him through thick and thin. They went through everything together. If he was in trouble….

"Can you call the other countries to make sure they're okay? If this is serious enough we can take this to the UN meeting," Germany hung up the phone and dialed Italy's number.

After a minute of incessant ringing the phone picked up.

"Hello~Ludwig!" The Italian cheerfully sang.

"Hey Feli, how are you feeling? Are you okay?" Germany smiled. That voice always warmed him up.

"Hm? Everything is Okay! You sound a bit sick, are you okay?" Italy asked.

"I could be better, to be honest. A lot has been going on," Germany stood silent for a few seconds before replying.

"Oh no!" Italy cried out, "What happened?"

"Lets just say the economy and politics is getting out of control," Germany chuckled, shaking his head, "It's a bit of a pain, but it's not life threatening or anything."

"Oh," Italy giggled, "That's good to hear then! I'm glad that you're okay!"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Germany grunted. Of course he wasn't sure if that was completely true, but he needed to reassure Italy, who would no doubt get sick himself from worrying too much. "It seems like a few other countries are also sick. It's something I'll bring up in the UN meeting."

"Alright, I'll bring some lasagna to cheer everyone up!" Italy exclaimed.

"I'll be looking forward to that," he replied, laughing, "Alright I'll see you later Feli."

"Bye!" Italy's bubbly voice cut off, and Germany put his phone on his desk. Yes, Italy's lasagna would certainly make things better for sure, it always did when he was feeling down.

He turned on the tv, only to be met by more disheartening news. He sighed. He needed to get to the bottom of this before it got any worse.

* * *

Poland watched dozens of tanks driving across the open field, firing shells across the empty meadow. Jets sailed through the cloudless sky, launching missiles towards a cluster of empty buildings. Under the heavy air and armor assault KTO Rosomak AFVs drove up to the edge of the trenches, deploying soldiers armed with MSBS-5.56 Radon assault rifles. They stormed the trenches, gunning down dummy soldiers and throwing grenades with extreme vigor.

"Yes, yes! Blow those bastards up!" The blonde man shouted, shaking his arm in the air. "Slaughter the Russians!" He jumped up in the back of his command car, causing it to shake.

"Sir, please calm down," The driver turned around, giving Poland a disappointed stare, "It's only an exercise. You can't just openly drop names like that."

"Oh come on, don't look at me like that!" Poland laughed, "Let me have some fun, why can't you?"

"Sir, you can have fun. Just please keep it to yourself," The driver told him.

Poland frowned and stopped moving, peering through his binoculars once more. "Fine," He grumbled. He smiled however when an OBRUM PL-01 tank drove up to a bunker and fired a blast into it, causing the concrete building to collapse. The Polish soldiers continued to swarm the complex, breaking windows and tossing hand grenades inside. "Man, It's been too long since I've done one of these."

"It's always good to practice," A voice called out from behind him. A jeep drove up, Lithuania in the driver's seat with Estonia next to him. Latvia sat in the back next to Ukraine, who smiled and waved at Poland, whose cheeks flushed red at the sight of her, so he turned to Lithuania.

"What are you doing here?" Poland demanded.

"I'm just watching this little show," Lithuania waved his hand towards the line of AHS Krab self-propelled artillery pieces. They let off a thunderous volley, turning a small hill into a crater. "It's been too long since I've-we've all seen your military power."

"You're right about that. I haven't been able to show myself off in this fashion for how many years now? I've been itching to go fight someone-Russia and Germany," Poland nodded, "but anyways yeah. It's high time I show the world my true power!" He cackled, eliciting a chuckle from the others.

"We're strong too!" Estonia boasted, "Us Baltics combined would be able to conquer Russia by ourselves!" He smirked.

"Now now," Ukraine cooed, "There's enough of him for all of us."

"Don't worry, We'll all be taking a turn at him, it's almost sad to imagine what we're going to do to him," Estonia chuckled.

"Oh, he's going to suffer alright. We're going to put him through what we've had to go through," Poland sneered, "We'll make sure he can never rise again."

He turned back to watch the field through his binoculars. He laughed when a dozen WR-40 Langusta rocket artillery fired their payloads into the sky. "Yeah, blow those bastards back to hell!" He screamed.

"Kat, you got an update on the Allies we have inside Russia?" Latvia leaned towards Ukraine, getting a bit too close to her chest.

"Well, Chechnya has been a very good sport, recruiting a slew of her friends into our little alliance!" Ukraine seemed to have not noticed Latvia's intrusion of her personal space, though Poland certainly has, giving the small Baltic a cold stare until he retreated.

Ukraine pulled out a folder with the names of all of the countries involved with the Armageddon, giving it to Lithuania. His eyes widened when he saw some of the new names.

"Holy shit, you've got to be kidding me. This is even better than I thought," Lithuania chuckled, "This is going to be too easy."

Latvia and Estonia's mouths gaped.

"Wait, even they're a part of us?" Latvia squealed, "And him too?"

"Oh yes, our numbers are growing by the day, and it's going to keep on growing~" Ukraine sang, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and passing it around. "It's already begun, and once the world realizes it's going to be too late~"

"That reminds me, how is it with you and Bel?" Poland asked, "Does she still not know?"

"We're doing good. She's happy, I'm happy, things are going well," Lithuania blushed at the thought of his lover.

"Is my sister good enough for you?" Ukraine winked.

"What does that mean?" Lithuania demanded.

"Oh, you know," Ukraine laughed, and Lithuania blushed even harder.

"That's none of your business!" He sputtered, looking away from her, "She still doesn't know a thing about this. And I don't plan on telling her, at least until it's over."

"We don't want her as a loose end," Estonia noted, "If she finds out, she could tell Russia."

"She won't. I've made sure of it. I've suggested to her to start distancing herself from Russia. So at least she'll be passive, if not actively supporting our cause." Lithuania glared at him, "She'll be a part of us whether she wants to or not."

"Sounds manipulative," Latvia pointed out.

"It's for her own good," he muttered, biting his lip, "I know it is…"

* * *

Israel sat alone in the meeting room, glancing anxiously at his watch. He was supposed to have a meeting here, and it was already ten minutes past the agreed time. He had other important things to do today, he couldn't waste his time here.

Time was getting more and more precious as the minutes ticked away. He cursed. He had to give the greenlight to the IDF to reveal their true power. Yes, he was already known as a military superpower in the Middle East, but nobody knew the true extent of his strength. Not even America had an inkling of what was to come.

He looked at his watch again. Fifteen minutes had passed. He groaned in frustration. What was taking the other person so long? He was going to leave if it was going to take any longer.

"Sorry for being late!" A man rushed into the room, panting heavily. "You're not mad, are you David?" He was a bit shorter than the Israeli, and contrary to Israel's clean shaven face had a moustache and goatee. He tossed his jacket onto an empty chair as he took a seat from across Israel.

"I'm not mad, just aggravated," Israel looked at the man, "Fifteen minutes, Wasif. What's the point of arranging a time to meet up if you're just going to be late anyways?"

"I'm sorry brother, let me make it up for you," Wasif pulled out his wallet, "I'll buy you something, like a coffee-"

"That's not necessary. I only want you to listen to what I have to say," Israel held up his hand.

A little perplexed, Wasif put his wallet back into his pocket, leaning back and crossing his arms.

"Okay then," He replied, "Why did you call me here in the first place?"

Israel nodded, getting straight to the point.

"Have you heard of The Armageddon?" He asked. Wasif looked visibly disturbed upon hearing those words.

"Yes, I have. I don't want to be a part of this little conspiracy," Wasif growled.

"It's not some little conspiracy," Israel scowled, "It's a revolution of the millennia. We're going to destroy those that abuse the rest of the world. We are going to liberate this planet."

"And what about you?" Wasif raised his eyebrows, "Who do you need liberation from, mmm? What made you join them?"

"I didn't say I definitely joined them," Israel's voice heightened in alarm, "I just sympathize with them. I thought you of all people would be eager to join them."

"Why? Is it because of our fight?" Wasif chuckled.

"I..." Israel cleared his throat, "Aren't you tired of the conflicts? 70 years, Wasif. Our people have been slaughtering each other, while our neighbors and Allies have been feeding into the bloodshed. Remember the days when we were brothers? When we could walk down the street in peace, regardless of religion or race…"

"Yes, of course I do…" Wassif smiled, reminiscing a little, "Those were good times…"

"Let us join them, destroy this world order and all of the petty conflicts that come with it. I want to do this with you," Israel offered, his hand outstretched, "We used to be united before. Let us be united again."

Wasif looked at his hand suspiciously, before shaking his head sadly. "I don't want to be involved in this revolution. I'd rather let everyone else kill each other than be involved myself. I've had enough of hurting others."

"I want to save you, can't you see that?" Israel shouted, hurt from the answer.

"I don't need to be saved, David," Wasif was firm with his answer, "You, on the other hand, might need some guidance." He stood up and grabbed his jacket, giving Israel a smile and a wave on his way out. "Good luck on your Armageddon, brother."

The door swung shut, leaving Israel alone once again. He stared at the wall, trying not to give it a good punch. He knew it wouldn't have worked, but to still try and fail was more than just discouraging, it was infuriating. He was trying to do this for him! All Israel wanted was to be with his brother again, and this was the perfect opportunity. That was all he wanted for the past century, but to be rejected right at this moment….

Israel shook his head. Wasif will come around to it; he'll understand that The Armageddon was going to help people like him. Countries like him.

"Damn it," Israel pulled out his phone from his pocket, cursing as he dialed the number, "Hey, it's me. Yeah, I tried to get him to join, but just like I feared he failed to act."

He sighed. "Don't worry though. It seems like he hasn't thrown his lot in with the enemy yet, he'll be a neutral. Which means he can still be convinced to join our cause. I know he wants to stop our fight as well. Whatever the case, Israel and Palestine will finally find peace."

* * *

In the war torn cities of Libya a single Arab woman walked through the rubble-strewn streets, a Kalashnikov rifle slung over her shoulder. She wore a military vest and jacket over her bright and colorful dress, her long black hair covered by old beret underneath her green hijab. This was the personification of Libya herself.

Her nation was once one of the greatest in the Arab World. Rich in resources, a powerful military and a modern center of culture and pride of North Africa. And now it was fractured, broken and considered a failed nation by the rest of the world.

That made her more sad than anything else. To never be taken seriously, an afterthought of the globe, only coming to the spotlight when it came to resources and the power stru ggle of foreign powers, it sometimes made her wonder what the point of her existence was.

That was until she was told of The Armageddon. That was the light that sparked her life again. She felt nothing after the fall of the Green regime in 2011; what was hoped to be democracy instead turned out to be anarchy.

Yes, those promises turned out to be empty. And she should be wary of new such promises. But unlike before, they were from friends, people who understood her pain. They knew what it was like to be trampled on. So this time, she trusted them, her instincts told her so.

"Zuhra!" Libya turned her head and saw several figures standing behind her, "Figured you'd be wandering around the streets as usual." The shortest woman approached Libya, grinning and sauntering with every step.

"Zeudi!" Libya pulled her into a tight embrace, "Finally left your shell, huh?" The woman's huge frizzy hair tickled her nose, causing her to nearly sneeze all over the woman, or rather the nation of Eritrea. She looked over and saw the other nations as well; Somalia, Somaliland and Yemen.

She couldn't help but laugh. "You're all here!"

"Yep! You've heard the news right?" Eritrea asked, her eyes glowing.

"The Armageddon has begun," Libya nodded. She looked around the street, at the few pedestrians walking cautiously around them. "Let's go inside." She motioned to one of the empty buildings. The group made their way inside, Libya making a quick sweep of the building to expel any armed person, which she found none.

They sat down amongst the rubble, trying to get comfortable.

"So, we know what our jobs are right?" Libya asked, leaning her rifle against the wall, "We have a very important task at hand."

"Take the Arabian oil fields and Suez canal," Yemen said, "Take the Middle East and split Europe, Asia and Africa off from one another."

"We have more allies in the Middle East, but is Israel definitively on our side?" Somalia asked, "What the hell is with his deal?"

"He's," Libya sighed, "He's not an enemy, I can guarantee that. He's a co-belligerent if you will. Don't worry about him, he won't stop us."

"He better be. He's going to be one hell of a thorn on our side if he decides to go against us," Eritrea grumbled, "At least Egypt and Ethiopia are on our hit list, right?"

"I have nothing against Egypt," Libya bit her lip. That was true, if anything Egypt was like a brother to her. Which was why it pained her that he had to be eliminated. "But taking the Suez will give us an edge over them."

"All I want is to kill Ethiopia," Eritrea growled, her entire body shaking with anger, "I want to see him choke on his own blood."

"Now now, that'll be soon enough. For now we still have to operate behind the curtains," Libya chuckled, "We've got all of our African allies ready?" She turned to Somaliland.

"Yep! They're all itching to get the action going!" Somaliland beamed.

"Good. I'll let them know when they can go wild," Libya replied, "I'm all for it, but we still have to wait a bit longer until we can finally reveal ourselves." She sneered. "Us Arabs and Africans have been underestimated for far too long. Don't worry brothers and sisters, we'll show the world just how wrong they are."

* * *

Belarus looked at the plate of food on the table. She blushed as she read the love note that Lithuania had written to her. He was such a considerate sweetheart, always being a gentleman around her. She had originally thought he was just another dumb, serious guy that Russia had forcefully conquered. Even when it was obvious he was pining for her, her eyes were on Russia and Russia alone.

But now things were better once she realized how she felt about him too. A relationship was better than a one-sided love for both parties after all. Her and Toris were happy together, it was a match made in heaven.

She picked up the fork, nibbling the side of the kibinai. Lithuanian food was another plus for their relationship for sure, and she couldn't contain the joyful groan that escaped her lips after finishing the piece. She finished the plate, standing up to go wash it.

As she washed the plate she looked up at the clock, letting out a sad sigh. Lithuania was gone early again. This was becoming a frequent occurrence lately, something she wasn't a fan of at all. She'd pester him about it, but he always blew her off or simply told her things were getting busy in his country. She was a nation too, but that didn't mean she would be out of the house for the entire day!

What was he doing? Was it related to him cutting himself off from the rest of Europe? She couldn't fathom why he would do that, he didn't even tell her why he did it. All he said were excuses, that was clear even to her. But whatever he was doing, he surely knew what he was doing. He was a smart man after all. He was doing this for her, he had told her this.

She silently wiped the plate and put it back in the cabinet, next crashing down on the couch and turning on the tv. She turned it on, switching it before the news was able to show her all the horrible things occurring all over the world. She scrunched up, throwing a blanket over herself. This would have to do instead of Lithuania for now. Tears formed at the edge of her eyes, so she wiped them with a tissue. But they kept on coming. All she wanted was for things to be back the way they were.

* * *

The cabin was crowded with dozens of people, making themselves comfortable by squeezing onto couches and chairs, piling on top of each other on the floor and for those unfortunate enough to not find room, standing in the middle of the room.

"Thank you everyone for coming!" Chechnya shouted over the chatter, trying to get everyone to pay attention to her, "Hello? Can anyone hear me?" But nobody heard her. She groaned angrily. "Come on!"

"Shut up!" Tatarstan roared, gaining everyone's attention. She smiled, turning to Chechnya. "There you go." She kissed Chechnya's cheek.

"Thank you. Now," Chechnya's face turned pink. She looked at the people in front of her, "As I said, thank you all for coming to this very important meeting."

"Get on with it!" a caucasian man shouted. He had short, cropped black hair and a mix of traditional and modern Cossack dress.

"I am, Crimea! Shut up and listen!" Chechya groaned, "We're all brothers and sisters here, united in a common cause against the Russian! Now, we have been given full reign of his fate, granted that we allow the Eastern Europeans to have their fair share of revenge as well."

"We all know how he operates; causes unrest in our countries, deports our people and bombs our cities. So the first phase of our operation will be simple; do what he did to us. We will make him go through what we did," Tatarstan explained.

"So it's essentially a bloodletting," A freckled man with brown hair spoke up. He wore a white military uniform and a black cape and ushanka. "Killing innocent civilians?"

"That's what we're aiming for, Ingush," Chechnya nonchalantly replied.

"Sounds good to me," Ingushetia nodded. nobody looked disturbed by the implications of genocide. Considering most had suffered that very fate, it only seemed fitting that Russia go through the same pain.

"Question!" A hand shot up from the group of disaffected Russian subjects. Everyone turned their heads, and Chechnya looked over to see a clean-shaven Asiatic man looking a little concerned.

"Kalmykia, go ahead," Chechnya said.

"So what do we do about all the other Republics and Oblasts that are loyal to Russia?" Kalmykia asked.

"There's no going around this; if they refuse to join, they die," Chechnya replied without giving it a second thought. "Painless or not, in the end it'll hurt Russia the most."

She saw the flicker of uncertainty on some of the faces in front of her. "I know. They are our brothers and sisters, closest of friends. Believe me, I hold nothing against most of them, they were simply pawns of Russia as well. But.." She sighed, "By killing them, we shall free them from his grasp once and for all. Better to be dead free rather than live as a slave. We're putting them out of their misery."

She had to convince herself of that statement. They were innocent, and she would rather have them join the Armageddon. But the lines were being drawn, and they were on the wrong side of it.

"Do not worry, we're prepared for our crusade," A moustached Asian said, "Whatever the cost it is, we've been ready for decades."

"Thank you Tuva for the reassurance. I know that we are all just dying to get this started," Chechnya laughed.

"Oh, you're such a comedian sometimes, aren't you?" Tatarstan cooed, kissing her cheek.

"Shut up, tartar sauce!" Chechnya squealed, face turned scarlet.

"Hey, not in front of everyone!" She shouted, her face turning red as well. The Others began to laugh, watching the two women argue in front of them.

* * *

The two women watched the log cabin from atop a mountain, which stood out amongst the drab green forest of Siberia. Through binoculars they watched the group of Russian republics converse with each other rather excitedly. The women were both wearing camouflage hunting clothes, blending them into the taiga around them.

The first woman pulled her eyes from the binoculars, revealing her small green eyes. Her skin was more pale, a mix of Caucasian and Asian complexes making one beautiful personification of Siberia.

"You see them, right?" The first woman pulled her hood over her bun.

"Damn right," The second woman muttered. She was more definitely European, with light blonde-brownish hair and a more round face. "I thought it was only for Chechnya and Tatar,"

"I thought so too, but apparently I was wrong," Siberia replied, "But I can also see Ingush, Kalmykia, Tuva, Crimea, Komi, Yakut, Khakassia, Chuvashia, Alta Krai, Kabardino and Balkaria, North Ossetia…" She strained her eyes against the binoculars, but she couldn't recognize any more of those present. "Is this some sort of party?"

"I don't know, but to be honest I don't like it," Karelia said, writing the countries down on a piece of paper, "Why would they gather here of all places? It's so cold and remote…"

"They're planning something," Siberia concluded, "But what? What are they doing?" She glared at the cabin, trying to decipher the secrets being discussed inside. There were so many questions in her mind, but one thing was certain; this was suspicious for sure.

Karelia stood up, glancing towards Siberia.

"Should we tell Ivan?" she asked.

"No, I don't want to overreact, as much as I'm wary of this situation. They could very well be having a simple party in my forests, out of civilization's reach," Siberia crossed her arms, deep in thought. She stood up, dusting off dirt and branches off of her. "Don't worry Outti, if anything does happen I'll know."

Taking one last look at the cabin, the two women disappeared into the forest, climbing down the mountain and leaving the members of the Armageddon be.

* * *

The woman stood in her room, staring at the body length mirror. Her long, smooth black hair was tied up in a tight bun, one approved by the state. She wore a dark brown military uniform, though the skirt was too tight for her liking. Several medals were pinned to her chest, for bravery and loyalty to the nation.

This was the personification of the Hermit Kingdom, and as the name suggested she was indeed alone. This queen of a domain cut off from the rest of the world, staring anxiously at herself and breathing heavily.

She had gotten the call to arms. She'd been preparing ever since the war, her army was training for this very moment. She had been training for this day to come. All the hardship she endured was so she would be ready when the day the Armageddon began.

When the phone rang, she was at first confused, but then ecstatic once she realized who it was. Even if they were enemies on the public stage, in private they were the best of friends. They've been communicating all throughout the Cold War, understanding each other's pain and want for revenge.

She twiddled her thumbs nervously. What she mainly wanted was to be reunited with her brother once more. They used to be the closest of siblings, but that all changed after the Second World War. After Russia and the USA came to Korea. Splitting them apart, bombarding them with propaganda to pit them against each other. She on the one hand was smart enough to ignore all the subliminal messages. But Soo on the other hand, he fell to the lies immediately. America was the master of propaganda after all.

She despised him more than anyone else. That was the only part of her that the world actually knew about her. Well technically they knew nothing else about her anyways, if that was any reassurance to anyone. She groaned, jumping on her bed.

"What's got you in such a mood?" The gravelly male voice jarred her from her rest.

"Who the hell?" North Korea jumped up and pulled out a pistol towards the source of the voice.

There in the windowsill sat a man in a ragged military uniform, smoking a cigarette and his round thick glasses staring right at her.

"What's the matter, Eunwoo? I didn't remember you as so paranoid, but considering how your country's been for so long it makes sense," The man chuckled to himself, stroking his goatee.

North Korea gave him a look over, recognizing the dark beige helmet and field tunic.

"Y-you!" She exclaimed, her jaw dropping, "What are you doing here? Wait, I thought you died!"

"Ah, I guess that's what everyone thought! I'm sure Yao thinks I'm gone and wasted, but here I am, better than ever!" The man let out a coarse laugh, "I'm a survivalist I suppose." He jumped inside, and North Korea cringed at the sight of the mud track made by the man's boots.

"So," the man looked at North Korea, "I'm guessing you're a part of the Armageddon?"

"How do you know about that?" North Korea froze, her voice was quivering with fear.

"I have my ways," The man sneered, laughing once more, "Don't worry about me blabbing. Actually I'm all for it. I like this whole thing you guys are planning."

"Actually it's begun," North Korea told him.

"Oh?" The man cocked his head to the side, his interest obviously peaked, "Are you saying that…" his smirk only grew. "Interesting, very interesting indeed."

"What the hell are you thinking?" North Korea stared at him.

"Hey, who else is in on this? I only have a few names, but I'll be able to work better if I know everyone in it," The man stared right back at her.

North Korea sighed, proceeding to tell him the entire roster.

"There, satisfied?" She groaned.

"Yes I am. I do have an idea, if you're willing to work with me," The man nodded, obviously enjoying what he had heard.

* * *

**Well well well, time is ticking as more players are being revealed, showing just how huge this conspiracy is! Oh but it's much bigger, I promise you that. And who are these new mysterious people? Keep reading to find out!**

**If you like this story please leave a review, it always really does help me improve and continue writing. And so, until next time, sayonara!**


	5. Global Crises: From the darkness

**Thank you Vexey1999 for your review! I hope that the country you hope to be in the conspiracy is in it as well. **

**Warning; _this is where things get serious. attack dogs, blood and death below. read at your own discretion. _**

* * *

It's been all too long since Hong Kong set foot in the northern half of the Korean peninsula. It must have been since the late 19th century he last visited Hong Eunwoo, the northern representative of Korea. So he was more than pleasantly surprised when he found out they were both a part of the Armageddon.

He couldn't believe how orderly the streets of Pyongyang were. Everything was crisp and clean, and a bit too eerie for his taste. The people were nice and all, but still the fact that he was in an authoritarian country was a bit unnerving. Even he had nominal freedom under his own regime that ruled him, though he was constantly reminded that he was still nothing but a Chinese subject.

He smiled at an elderly couple as they walked past him. It was still peaceful here. It was serene, reminding him of good old days of peace and quiet.

When he saw North Korea standing at the side of the sidewalk, smiling and waiting for him he felt his heart jump with excitement.

"Eunwoo!" Hong Kong called out.

"Leon! It's been too long!" North Korea practically bounced over to him. She squeezed him too hard, and he let out a loud gasp.

"Sorry," North Korea let go, allowing Hong Kong to get a breath of air. "I got too excited." She sheepishly laughed and put her hands behind her back. She turned away from him, hiding the look of happiness on her face.

"It's alright," Hong Kong wheezed, "I'm happy to see you too. I'm glad you're still energetic as always."

"Does Yao know you're here?" North Korea asked.

"No," Hong Kong replied. He did look around the street though. "Mei was supposed to be with me, but I think she got lost." A groan escaped his lips. "I told her to stay by my side, but of course she doesn't listen."

"Well then I guess we have to find her," North Korea rolled her eyes, "Come on, let's go get her."

* * *

Taiwan didn't know how she got separated from Hong Kong; she was sure she had been by his side until a minute ago. Now she was alone in the silent and imposing capital of North Korea, wandering around the city. She wanted to find Hong Kong, but at the same time she loved exploring Pyongyang.

Her eyes were on the large triangular building that jutted out in the sky, overshadowing the rest of the Pyongyang landscape. She had seen pictures of it before, but never did she imagine she'd see it with her own eyes, or Pyongyang in general, though to be fair she never actively sought out to come here before.

She found herself in front of the pyramidal building, just looking up in awe. The abandoned hotel seemed almost alien, out of this world.

"The Ryugyong Hotel, interesting isn't it?" The voice from behind made her jump. Taiwan slowly turned around, as she knew that voice, one she hadn't heard from since before the war. There the man stood, now in a clean and crisp military uniform. He was smirking at Taiwan, who took a step back.

"Zaitou," her voice shook, her previous wonder now replaced with fear.

"Mei! It's been too long!" The man pulled her into a bear hug. Taiwan reluctantly hugged her back, before quickly retreating from his grasp.

"You're alive," Taiwan muttered, bewildered.

"Yeah, I am. What about it?" Zaitou shrugged. He adjusted his glasses. His smirk widened. "Don't worry about me. We're on the same side."

"What?" Taiwan arched her eyebrows.

"Oh, just the Armageddon and all that stuff," Zaitou let out a cackle when he saw her expression drop, "As I said, I'm on your side! I'm not going to blab." He reassured.

Taiwan looked at him with suspicion. This man was not someone you could easily trust. She remembered the stories Yao had told of him in the past; how he conquered China, slaughtering millions of people. Of course she saw first hand experience when they were both under Japan's control of his brutality on the battlefield, his inclination for violence.

"Why should I believe you?" Taiwan eyed him.

Zaitou stared right back, his glasses hiding any sort of emotion in his eyes. He wasn't smiling anymore, and Taiwan felt a shiver go down her spine.

"Because I want to fight. I have some unfinished business with Yao," Zaitou replied, his tone monotone, "He thinks I'm dead. Everyone thinks I'm dead. I want to take advantage of that."

"And so we shall!" North Korea and Hong Kong came walking down the street, "You may be the two loudest people in Pyongyang! Zaitou, that's not very good if you're trying to remain on the down-low, is it?"

Zaitou's expression returned to his goofy, rather scary smile. "I don't think there's anybody here that can expose my existence. Unless.," He looked at Taiwan again.

"I won't," Taiwan grumbled, and Zaitou chuckled to himself.

"Wait a second," Hong Kong stopped in his tracks when he saw Zaitou.

"Okay, that's the third time I've seen the same reaction. It just gets boring after a while," Zaitou laughed and patted Hong Kong on the shoulder. Hong Kong simply brushed it off, looking back towards North Korea with a face that demanded an explanation.

North Korea smiled and looked at him with sympathy, grabbing his hand as a way of support. He didn't object, gripping back tightly.

"Well, I guess with introductions out of the way we can go inside," Hong Kong motioned to the hotel.

* * *

Despite it being supposedly abandoned when the group of Asians were greeted by a functional elevator, reaching 100th the floor where they were met with a beautiful room, with ornate paintings and bright chandeliers hanging from the walls and ceilings. A large window allowed them to see a panorama of Pyongyang from above.

"Whoah!" Taiwan rushed to the window, her eyes sparkling as brightly as the chandeliers. She looked back at the rest of the group with childlike excitement, so much so that she tripped running back to North Korea.

"Calm down Mei, it's nothing special," North Korea laughed, pulling her back up. Taiwan only giggled and sat down on one of the couches. Zaitou joined her, and she moved slightly away.

"So it being unfinished is just a front?" Zaitou asked.

"Yeah, this hotel is functional. It's been completed since the 80s, but it was decided that this building would make a good HQ for the Armageddon, and I've been meeting here with Leon and the others since," North Korea explained, snuggling next to Hong Kong.

"Why wasn't I invited?" Taiwan pouted, crossing her arms and legs and staring at North Korea. 

"I only talked to our allies within the Communist bloc," North Korea added, "I wasn't able to communicate with anybody else. Leon was an exception." She smiled at Leon. "because even though he was under the British until recently, he was frequently making business in China."

"Smart," Zaitou looked impressed for once. He whistled, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. "This'll be something they won't expect, after all the other surprises we have of course." the others stared at him as he cackled.

"I still don't know why you're here though," Hong Kong pointed a finger at him. Zaitou smirked, as if amused by the fact that nobody in the room trusted him.

"I'm here to help you," He said matter of factly to which Taiwan gave him a doubtful look, "My rightful place as ruler of China has constantly been taken away from me." He puffed out a cloud, which floated into Taiwan's face and forced her to curl away and cough her lungs out.

Zaitou shifted forwards, looking at each and every one of them. "I want to create chaos. I want to fight again, just an orgy of blood and violence. Eunwoo, have you told the big boss about my plan?"

North Korea sighed, waving her phone. "I did, and he was in complete agreement. Perhaps a bit too much…" She rolled her eyes, "Anyways yeah, he said you can do whatever you want. As long as it didn't interfere with his plans."

"Well, we were always on the same page!" Zaitou let out another colorful laugh. He deeply inhaled, before shooting out a stream of smoke from his mouth. Taiwan covered her mouth and fanned the smoke away from her face, muttering curses in Formosan. Zaitou crushed the cigarette butt with his boot.

"Sorry about that, Mei," Zaitou pulled out his phone and began to type in a feverish manner, "I'm just going to enact my little plan I've been concocting on my own…"

"A plan you've been concocting?" Hong Kong wasn't even surprised at this point; Zaitou was simply an unpredictable madman.

"Yup," Zaitou nodded, putting his phone away, "A man's always got to have a plan, doesn't he?" Hong Kong reluctantly nodded, still not understanding what this man was about.

Zaitou grinned and stood up.

"You're about to witness something amazing, my good friend."

* * *

The city of Chaoyang was busy, the half a million inhabitants leading their lives as they would any other day. Among them were a convoy of trucks, driving through the city like any normal truck transporting goods across the country. They sped through the sub-provincial city, crossing the border from Manchuria into North China. The caravan then separated on the highway and blended in with the traffic, each splinter heading towards major cities of the People's Republic of China.

The largest fragment of the convoy drove towards the capital of Beijing, blending in with the traffic on the highway. Despite the drivers and passengers looking like regular Chinese truckers, they were carrying a dangerous arsenal of rifles, machine guns and explosives as well as the squad's worth of men and women all suited up in PLA uniforms. They were sitting on the floor, checking their weapons and chatting excitedly with each other. The lantern in the middle illuminated the inside, revealing the wear and tear on the passenger's faces. They haven't been able to groom themselves for days, only subsisting on meagre rations for the duration of the trip from the city of Changchun.

He was in the very back, in an officer's uniform and lighting a cigarette. He was clean shaven, his jet black hair hidden underneath the peaked cap. His head was bobbing as they rode along, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to stave off slumber. He groaned and looked at his subordinates, who looked just as tired he was.

Changchun couldn't believe he was doing this. He was roped into this insane plan after laying low for so long. Of course his boss was just as insane, probably even more so. But he didn't really have a choice, did he? Well, to be fair it's not like he objected to being a part of this grand plan. He understood the cost of executing this operation, that it would end in the deaths of innocents. But that did excite him a little, that he would be a part of something that will change the course of the Earth forever. He was proud to be a part of something so grand.

He jolted awake when his pocket vibrated. He pulled out his phone and looked at the message Zaitou had sent him. God damn, that man was crazy. He kept on pushing the limit, that's for sure.

But he couldn't contain his grin. Orders were orders, and he was damned if he wasn't going to follow them.

* * *

Arizona was in her adobe home, reading a book and drinking from a pitcher of iced tea. It was a resting day for her, and all she wanted to do was sit in her home, surrounded by her cacti and her various snakes and scorpions. She was so relaxed she let her long brown hair down from the usual ponytail, and she had taken off her top, exposing her body to the intense breeze coming from the fan in front of her. She was in her element, and the last thing she wanted was to be interrupted by some outsider.

So when she heard the knocking from the front door she contemplated whether to send her snakes after whoever's at the front. Maybe if she waited long enough, the person would simply leave. That's what she hoped, and so she waited, sinking deeper into her bean bag chair and letting her sidewinder crawl all over her chest.

However the knocking only intensified, and she felt frustration rise in her. If someone didn't answer their home, it meant that either they weren't home, they haven't heard or they don't want to come out, how is that not obvious? From the corner of her eye she saw several figures standing outside the window, peering inside.

She quickly pulled her coat over herself, her snake still wriggling inside. She didn't care, she was furious. How dare some random hooligans walk up to her property and look inside her house! She hadn't even noticed them coming through the gate, they must be some sort of experienced burglars. She pulled out her FNS semi-automatic security pistol, slinking out of her chair and grabbing her bandana, pulling it over the lower part of her face. She was going to show these simpletons who they were dealing with.

"Come out Heather! We know you're in there!" Arizona froze. There were very few that knew her name, and in turn what her identity was. For them to know, that meant that they weren't just some random hooligans. They knew who she was, and that meant they were prepared to deal with a state. Though she was confident in her skills, she'd rather avoid any sorts of trouble.

The knocking on the door grew to a violent pound, she could hear the door shaking from each Boom. She cursed underneath her breath. Why did this have to happen today of all days? She crouched on the floor, hidden from the people outside.

She crept to the main hallway, the front floor in front of her. From her angle she could see the windows, but the people outside, who were wearing police uniforms could not see her inside. They looked agitated, as if they knew she was inside but didn't want to poke the hornet's nest. They talked amongst each other, occasionally glancing inside her home with worried expressions.

"Let's just break in, who cares anymore!" The voice from earlier barked. It wasn't an American accent, Arizona noted. Perhaps from Asia, maybe Japan or Korea. "Alright boys, get in there!" The voice ordered, and the men stirred into motion.

Before they could break the windows Arizona stepped into view, firing her pistol at the men in front of her. The glass shattered as the bullets struck the men, who let out screams of pain as they collapsed. The other men outside began to pepper her with return fire, but she pulled her head back behind cover. Bullets raced down the hallway, as they stepped inside, cautiously stepping towards the corner where Arizona hid.

Arizona stood up, pulling her snake up to her face. "Go Bravie Soto, make me proud," She whispered as she stepped in front of the lead man. The sidewinder lunged, sinking its fangs into the man's neck. The man screamed and dropped his weapon, the snake retracting its teeth and quickly crawling back to his owner. She put a bullet in another man's head, dashing back as more men filled the living room, sending a storm of steel her way. She bounced back, dropping more intruders as she danced her way to the back exit.

The lamp next to her shattered, sending glass fragments all over her. She felt the sting of the glass slice across her face, letting out a small grunt of pain. She staggered backwards, but she wasn't done. No, far from it. A little scratch like this couldn't hurt her.

But an empty magazine might. Her pistol went silent, forcing her to dash behind the counter. "Damn it!" She cursed, quickly inserting a new magazine into her firearm. She winced as bullets bit the wall above her, shooting out chunks of adobe all over the room. She peeked around the corner, only to immediately pull back as a man stepped forward, firing a submachine gun in her direction.

"Surrender!" The man was young, his short black hair combed to the left side. Just as Arizona had thought he was Asian, his skin being too pale for this part of the country. "We don't want to hurt you, but you need to come with us!"

"No thanks, I don't listen to rude people that break into my house and litter my floor with bodies," Arizona shouted, incensed at the audacity of whoever this man is, "Fuck off, get out of here before I put a bullet in your skull."

The man laughed. "No thank you, we need you to cooperate. It'll be better if you just surrender willingly, because either way you're coming with us."

Arizona's eyes twitched. This smug bastard really thinks he can take her down? How dare he! She stood up and aimed her FNS at him, shooting to kill.

He was quicker; he had dropped his gun and lunged forward, his hand in a knife hand strike aiming for the side of her neck. She tried to sidestep his assault but she was too slow, and before she knew it the shock in her neck had spread throughout her body, her vision fading into nothingness.

Her gun clattered to the floor, her body hitting the adobe tiles with a heavy thud seconds after. The man walked over and picked her up, ignoring the snake circling dangerously closer. "God damn it serpent, your master wasn't harmed," He muttered, quickly retreating from her house and driving off in an unmarked van, taking her with him.

* * *

West Virginia didn't know how long she was running, but it seemed to be hours now. She was in her mountain home when a group of unknown individuals attacked her, forcing her to flee into the backwoods.

And this didn't seem like any random encounter; this was premeditated, as if they knew who she was. But only the other states and a few countries could know who she was, regular humans would be oblivious to the fact. But who, who could blatantly attack one of the states of America?

She slid down the gravel hill, gripping her shotgun tightly. She was a small girl, her freckles and bobbed hair making her out to be an innocent little lamb. But she was a huntress, she knew these forests like the back of her hand. She wasn't going to let herself be caught off guard in her own backyard.

She heard shouting not too far away, so she kept on running. Jumping over fallen logs and sifting through brambles, she occasionally looked behind her to make sure she wasn't being followed. But she knew they weren't far behind. Damn it, who are these guys and why are they so persistent?

She broke into an open field, stopping only in front of the river in front of her. She held in her breath, contemplating if she should wade through the deep water, before chiding herself. She was wasting precious seconds, any moment now the men could step out of the forest, their guns trained on her. Then she would be literally fish in a barrel.

Then she heard the barking of the dogs. Her mind screamed for her to get away just as half a dozen German Shepherds came running out, making a beeline for her. She pulled out her shotgun and pulled the trigger, turning the head of one unfortunate dog into a mush of brain and lead. The canine's body fell to the ground, while two other dogs took the opportunity to pounce on her. She screamed as one bit into her leg, pulling her down to the ground. She pointed the shotgun at the dog and fired once again, tearing the attacking German Shepherd into pieces.

Her leg was torn up, and she knew there was no escape now. Tears streamed down her face in not only the pain, but the realization that this was where she was going to die, being shredded alive by vicious dogs. As another dog aimed to close its jaws on her neck she swiftly slammed the butt of her gun against its face, sending it careening away and yelping in terror.

This was a small victory in the face of inevitable defeat, the last three dogs bolted over their fallen brothers. West Virginia crawled away, each movement sending a wave of pain throughout her entire body. Blood was flowing from her thigh, she knew she had to get medical attention right away. But of course that wasn't possible.

She could barely move anymore, right as the dogs closed in on her. She fired her shotgun once more, disabling one canine. Her finger pulled the trigger again, but nothing happened. She was out of shots, and out of luck. She let out a wail, shutting her eyes in expectation of her agonizing death.

Her death did not come. She opened her eyes and saw the dogs retreating back to their owners, several men with rifles pointed at her. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she shakily raised her arms into the air, letting them take her to wherever they intended, only grateful that she was still alive. That graciousness however, would be short-lived.

* * *

America was lying on the couch, groaning in pain and holding an ice pack against his head while Bian was in the kitchen, cooking up some more food to feed this sick, ravenous American. She looked over from the doorway, cautiously handling a wok. "How are you feeling?"

America let out another pained groan. Bian sighed and poured the food onto a plate and carried it over to him. "Oh baby," She got a spoon full of the food and shoved it in his mouth, "What's wrong with you?"

"I really don't know," America gulped and wiped his mouth, "I haven't felt this sick in a long time." He leaned up, but his face went as pale as a sheet of paper and collapsed back on the couch. "I just have this weird feeling. Something I haven't felt since…" He turned to look at her. "The civil war."

Bian patted his head and fed him some more steamed vegetables. "Awh baby," She cooed, petting his hair. She bit her lip, trying to suppress her anxieties. America was always dealing with more stress than the average country already, but he was always acting fine. So to see him in this state now, she knew something drastic was happening to him. She turned on the tv, the screen immediately blaring with news of riots across West Virginia, while Arizona was suffering from abnormal amounts of dust storms or haboobs, destroying several towns and causing widespread damage.

Bian's have dropped as America let out another pain filled moan. "Oww...Bian, get me my phone…" he groggily ordered. Bian nodded and grabbed his cell phone, handing it to him. He quickly punched in a number, his worried eyes glued to the screen as the phone rang. "Come on Heather, pick up…." He muttered. "Please…"

But she never did. After five minutes of continued ringing, he dejectedly hung up. He called West Virginia afterwards, but didn't even wait two minutes until deciding it was a useless venture.

"Alfred I'm sure they're okay," Bian did her best to comfort him, but even she knew the hollow those words sounded. She sat down next to him, putting his head on her lap. "They're your states. They're some of the toughest gals on this planet."

"I know, but still I can't help but be worried," America coughed, punching in another number. His phone rang, and before long Washington DC picked up. "DC, thank god you're here! We need to call in an emergency meeting. Call in all the states ASAP. If West Virginia and Arizona don't show up, we need to look for them." He gripped Bian's hand, who smiled down at him.

He hung up, putting it on the table and sighing a breath of relief. "There. That's the least I can do in this state," He let out a wearied laugh.

"I'm proud of you," Bian kissed his forehead.

"Thanks," America managed a smile. He was still hurting like hell, but damn did that feel nice. He was lucky to have Bian by his side, without her he wouldn't be able to function. Yeah he has his states, but not even them could deal with his shenanigans 24/7. She on the other hand had stuck by him for over 40 years, helping him cope with all the stress he's gotten over the years.

He remembered something. "Oh, that's right! I'm going to have some visitors, you know the gang. Apparently some of the others are feeling a bit off as well, so we're going to discuss things before the UN meeting."

Bian stood up. "Alright, I'll have to get more food for the boys then," She chuckled and gently pecked his cheek before waving and exiting the house, leaving America alone.

* * *

Germany walked down the streets of New York City, taking in the smells of all the restaurants and street vendors and looking at the skyscrapers towering into the sky. He hadn't visited America in a while, so visiting the country was always refreshing.

But it wasn't for leisure. He had discovered that America was going through to something he was, perhaps even worse. This strange outbursts of disasters across the world was surely something they needed to investigate before the upcoming UN meeting. Storms, tornadoes, crimes and suicides, when they spike up in activity it was a sure sign of trouble.

He looked behind him, where Italy and Japan were falling behind. Italy was cheery as usual, chatting with the more quiet Asian, who smiled and nodded at whatever the Italian said, his eyes flickering at Germany from time to time. Occasionally he laughed at Italy's suggestions, though Germany couldn't hear their conversation.

"Come on you two, we're wasting time!" Germany called back at them. Italy and Japan glanced at each other, before hastening their pace until they reached him.

"You walk too fast!" Italy moaned, "I have to run to keep up with you."

"You have to exercise more," Germany told him, "This is why we should resume training-"

"That's not necessary!" Italy shrieked, quickly hiding behind Japan, "Nope, not at all!"

Japan pulled him in front of Germany. "I think it is in your best interest, Feliciano."

"You too Kiku," Germany added, "You both need to get back on your feet."

Kiku's smile dropped. "Oh, I don't think that's needed, Mr. Ludwig. I am perfectly content with how I am right now." He frowned, and Germany dropped all notions of training. Japan looking angry was a rare and unpleasant experience, and he didn't need that on his hands right now.

Japan's expression returned to his neutral smile just as quickly as it disappeared. "But you are right. We're not here for vacation, Mr. America is sick, and we shouldn't be delaying more than we already are."

Germany nodded. "Yeah, let's not waste anymore time," He couldn't help but be a little bit frustrated with them; while they were no doubt his closest friends sometimes it seemed like they were just out of sync with him. Italy always liked doing things his own way, while Japan remained passive. He wished they would sometimes be more proactive with their lives and take things more seriously. Actually in Japan's case, a little less seriously. Anyhow despite their quirks he appreciated them being here with him, it meant a lot to him.

"Good thing be brought some gifts for him!" Italy pulled out a small oil painting from his bag.

"Christ Feli, how old is that thing?" Germany exclaimed, staring at what looked to be a painting of a young blonde boy in a black hat and cloak.

Italy shrugged. "I made it back in the Renaissance," He nonchalantly replied, "it's been sitting in my attic ever since." "It's been sitting in my attic ever since."

"What? That must be worth millions!" Germany carefully inspected the painting, "Are you sure you don't want to put it in a museum? It just might end up gathering dust in America's attic."

Italy shook his head, an unusually large grin growing. "Nah, it's fine! I think he'll like it," He giggled, putting the art back into his back.

"I'll be getting him a bonsai tree as usual," Japan held the small Japanese tree, smirking at his present, "With the amount of bonsai trees I've given him I'm surprised he even still has room in his house."

Germany grinned. "That's good," He let out a laugh, elated at his friends' generosity, "I've gotten him a black forest cake, because you know he loves his sweets." The three men laughed as they resumed walking towards America's house.

"What the hell are you buffoons laughing about?" The voice jolted the trio from their fit of laughter. From the otherside of the street a group of men strode towards them, crossing the road. The man who spoke was a man with short, shaggy blonde hair, with just as thick eyebrows. "You three are always up to something, aren't ya?"

"England," Germany scoffed. "What are you doing here?"

"The same as you three from what I can tell," England rolled his eyes, "Come on, why else would I be in this god forsaken place?" He grew a wry smile, looking smug as ever. "That dolt needs his big brother to baby him back to health, so I'm just being a good sibling is all."

"And who else is with you?" Japan peered over England's shoulder. He wasn't surprised; France, China, Russia and Canada were right behind the Brit. He bowed politely. "Good to see you all here today."

Russia smiled sweetly. "It's good to see you too, comrade!" Japan twitched at being called 'comrade', but the Slav didn't seem to notice this, "I could be doing better things right now, but I decided that America was too important for me to ignore! I was hoping we can improve our relationship over some vodka." He cheerfully shook a full bottle of vodka at the Japanese man.

"I hope America is okay," Canada murmured. He was standing behind the rest of them, looking around nervously. "I've seen his news, and it seems he has it bad." He was shaking, despite it being warm outside.

"He better appreciate the fact that we took the time off to visit his lazy ass," China grumbled, his arms crossed, "I am a very busy man, you know!"

"This is a very important issue," Germany told him, "I hope you understand the gravity of the situation he's found himself in. With many of us also feeling smaller effects of the same kind, we must address this and find out the cause."

"The Kraut is right...for once," France chimed in. He didn't look his best, his face was slightly pale, and his hair was a little less silkier than usual. "If it can happen to America, it can happen to anyone."

Russia scoffed. "Not me! Nobody can take me down-" He confidently boasted before letting out an obvious groan of pain. "I-I'm good, I'm okay," He wheezed as everyone watched him with concerned looks.

"Me neither. Just because he feels a bit weird in his head doesn't mean I will," China concluded, "I'm not weak like he is." The fact that he wore a mask pretty much invalidated his statement.

"You all know how important this is," Germany stared at every one of them, daring any of them to say otherwise. They didn't, and so he relaxed. "Come on, we're all feeling a little bit under the weather. Let's just go to America's place and discuss things there."

They all walked down the street, chatting with one another. Germany was glad that though some of them didn't seem to take this seriously, they still all took the time to gather here to support America, and he was grateful for that. Japan and Italy glanced at each other, not saying a word to the others.

* * *

The group of Russian republics stood in Red Square, silently watching the People of Moscow pass by them. They blended in with the crowd, looking like any other foreign tourists taking pictures of Lenin's Mausoleum. What they did have that regular tourists had were firearms, bombs and radios to contact their allies all across not only the city but across the entire country, ready to spring into action.

Tatarstan gleefully smirked at the idea of what was about to happen. To hit the heart of Russia without him even realizing was such a wonderful dream come true. Her hand gripped the phone, itching to begin the operation. She looked back at Yakutia, an Oriental woman who looked just as excited as she was.

Tuva on the other hand looked impatient. "Come on, let's get this started," He turned to face Tatarstan, "When is Chechnya going to give the green light?"

"Don't worry, just give her a minute," Tatarstan smirked. And right then the phone buzzed. She looked at it and put it away. She turned around to face the group in front of her, her grin stretching wider. "Lock and load boys and girls, it's showtime," She opened up the bag on the ground, pulling out and assembling an AK-12 assault rifle. "Remember, no Russian."

* * *

**The Armageddon has finally begun to act! Poor Russia and China, they have no idea of what is going to hit them. And America, oh poor America he is just suffering already. At least he has the fortune of having a woman to take care of him. And yes, obviously Bian is a representation of a former nation, it's going to be a wonderful surprise when what she represents is revealed. **

**Same with Zaitou. He was also a former nation, once ruling China and has had a violent past with him. There are several of those in history, but him in particular is seen as untrustworthy from the other members, which will make sense once his identity is revealed. **

** Anyways, if you enjoy this series please leave a review, even a critical one as it will help me out a ton! Until next chapter, adios!**


	6. Global Crises: The Dominoes Fall

**Thank you Vexey1999 and Anime4life5 for reviewing!**

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Germany sat down on the chair across from America, who was still lying on the main couch in the living room. Japan and Russia sat on the other chairs, while France found himself a spot on a windowsill and Italy on the floor. England leaned smugly against the doorway. Canada, being the closest to America, had promptly sat on the arm of the couch he was lying on.

America grinned, though it was obvious it was strained. "I could be doing better," He replied, trying to raise his head from his pillow.

China pushed his head back down. "Don't push yourself too much. Just relax, let me make you some tea," He smirked and headed to the kitchen, preparing to make some herbal tea for the bed-ridden American. The first thing he noticed in the kitchen was the stack of empty pots and pans in the sink, along with several dirty woks. He didn't know America was actually cooking for himself, he just figured Alfred was the type to eat out every night, or to just get fast food all the time and not actually take care of his own diet. He poked his head out the window. "Hey, you've been cooking Asian cuisine lately?" He asked.

"Oh, yeah I have," Alfred answered groggily, "I've been trying to change my habits over the past few years." He grunted. "Though it hasn't been too successful as you can see."

China shrugged. "You know I can help you out right? If there's anybody that's a master of Asian food, it'll be me."

"Alright, thanks bro," America laughed. China shook his head and went back into the kitchen, eager to make America a good, traditional chinese dish. Japan raised his eyebrow, but as usual said nothing and glanced at Russia, who was comfortably making himself at home.

"You really need to take care of yourself," England chastised America, "You can't keep beating up your body like this." he looked concerned like the big brother he was.

America rolled his eyes. "Alright, I'll be sure to change how I live my life," He tried to laugh, but instead let out a storm of coughs, "Ah shit." He took a deep breath and gulped. "Yeah, I'm good now."

Italy stood up. "Before I forget, America I got you a present!"

"Really?" America's eyes lit up. He always loved the opportunity of getting a gift.

Italy nodded, pulling out the oil painting. "It's an antique of mine!" He ran over to the closest wall and began work on hanging it up.

"Damn Italy, you're just as good at art as you are with food!" America whistled, "Thanks!"

"No problem!" Italy finished hanging the painting next to the tv, just across from the couch. America looked at it for a few seconds, admiring the work. Sure, it was a bit strange but it was obvious the Italian had put a lot of work into the piece. It may not look like it but America was one to admire artwork.

"Ah, I have my present as well," Japan pulled out his bonsai tree and went off to put it in an empty place. He returned after a few minutes, satisfied with where he placed it.

"Man, I am being pampered!" America chuckled. "This is my lucky day!"

England sighed. He was always worried for the younger nation, America was probably the most hard headed country in the world no doubt. While the rest of the world took centuries to get where they were now, America only had 200 years to grow to the same level.

England bit his lip, trying to compose himself. Sure, he was an old, wise man himself but he was prone to overthinking and overworking himself to exhaustion. He wished he had America's energy at times, he certainly needed it in times like now.

He turned to France, who looked just as worried, if not even tired as well. He noticed England look at him and managed to form a smile. "Don't worry about me, old buddy. We're all here for the kid."

"Who are you calling buddy?" England grunted.

"See, there we go. There's no reason to fret over me or yourself. All we can do is keep our chins up high," France chuckled and shook his head.

"I hope you're right," England slumped in his chair, rubbing his eyes. There was nothing else they could do, was there?

"We've got to pull through," France said absent-mindedly.

"Come on you two, let's be more positive," Canada spoke up, "We've all gone through worse, haven't we?" England and France both nodded.

"Yeah, that is true. Let's not panic and get in over ourselves," England replied.

"Mr. Russia, are you alright?" Japan suddenly spoke up out of the blue. He looked worried, which wasn't uncommon, but it seemed weird to England that he was concerned for Russia of all countries, a man he's had a strained relationship with.

But when he saw Russia, he immediately knew something was off. The Russian was paler than normal, his breathing was getting more erratic by the second. He wiped sweat off of his forehead, but more just appeared.

"Oy, Ivan. what's with you today?" England waved his hand in front of Russia's face.

Russia ignored him. Or rather, he was spacing out. His eyes were glazed over, and he didn't seem to register when England stood up and stepped in front of him.

"Ivan!" England's voice rang out, and the Russian finally snapped awake.

"Da? Arthur what is it?" His eyes widened, looking bewildered, "Is something wrong?" 

"That's what we're asking you," Germany leaned forward in his seat, "You don't look much better than Alfred is right now."

"O-oh. Yeah, I don't feel too well. There's something wrong with me," Russia sighed, "I think something's happening in my land." He was trying to focus on something, anything, but it was as if his brain was falling asleep.

He was positive something was afoot back in his territory. It's been on the back of his mind for some time now, but the feeling wasn't just in the back; it shrouded his entire mind with endless weariness. At any moment he was on the verge of passing out. He hoped it would go away soon, but if history told him anything, it would only get worse...

* * *

Grozny was in flames once again. Chechnya stood on top of an abandoned Russian tank, watching Chechen civilians attack the Russian occupiers; an enraged mob of people spilling throughout the city, beating and shooting down the colonizers and their soldiers. She smiled at the carnage of the blood that spilled on the streets. Regular people, who would have otherwise been leading normal lives were now beating and hacking Russian soldiers to death with sticks and knives, while the more prepared ones were unloading their firearms into the crowd of screaming Russians.

She stepped over the body of a dead Russian woman, her boots dirtied by blood. This was the perfect revenge for everything Russia had done to her and her people. Why should she care about these foreigners in her city? They were only there as replacements for the natives that had been murdered before. She couldn't spare any sympathy for them.

Armed men escorted a group of Russian civilians to a ditch, before turning their guns and executing them in quick succession. She looked up to see the sky covered by smoke, gunfire still echoing across the city. She hoped that the Russian would feel this violence, to feel her rage. If he didn't, well that wasn't too much of a disappointment. This was only the beginning after all.

* * *

Tatarstan gleefully unloaded her assault rifle across Red Square, gunning down both tourists and citizens alike. She didn't care who she hit; all that mattered was the chaos unfolding in front of her eyes. People were screaming and running for their lives, and it gave her the excitement she craved. That was only added when police and security forces came in full force, armed to the teeth and ready to destroy this threat. She let out a little whoop as she emptied a magazine into the windshield of a Russian police car, splattering the back of the seat with the driver's brain. The car careened to the side, crashing into another car and sending one police officer into the air.

"You are having way too much fun with this," Tuva rolled his eyes as he fired an RG-6 grenade launcher towards a crowd of FSB operatives, killing nearly half a dozen of them.

"Of course I am!" Tatarstan exclaimed. She looked back at Tuva, the grin on her face so wide it made his skin crawl. "I've been waiting for this day for years!" She turned back to face her opponents. "Come on, you Ruskie bastards is that all you got?" She shouted.

Yakutia was also having her fair share of fun, blasting people away with her Vepr 12 gauge shotgun.

"I'd never thought I'd be doing this!" She cackled, "This feels amazing!" One FSB officer stood up from behind his car, aiming a rifle at her head. She swiveled her barrel towards the man and fired, shredding his face into mush. His body collapsed, his fellow FSB men rushing to shoot the rogue countries down. But one shot from Tuva cleared them out.

"Are we just going to stand here and let ourselves be surrounded?" Tuva shouted, getting more anxious as army troops began to swarm the Square.

Tatarstan looked around her, realizing their situation might be worse than previously thought. "You're right, let's move to Lenin's Mausoleum," she waved her hand, and the trio ran towards the red building, ducking and weaving through a hail of gunfire.

There were no guards by the door of the Mausoleum; they were all dead or had fled the scene. Tatarstan opened the door and ran inside, quickly followed by Yakutia and Tuva, who fired another grenade at the army men still outside. Tatarstan stood over the body of Lenin.

"Whoah, I've never actually seen this before," Tatarstan whistled, almost admiring the care and effort the Russians took to preserve this monster. She shrugged, smashing the glass with the butt of her rifle and dragging the body out of its resting place.

"Whoah, what are you doing?" Yakutia yelped and jumped back at the sight of the corpse, "Why are you holding that?"

"I don't know, maybe the Russkies wouldn't want to shoot their own hero into little pieces," Tatarstan sneered, throwing the body over her shoulder, "Damn, this guy is heavy!" She giggled. "What has he been eating lately?"

"I don't know, but let's get out of here," Yakutia huffed, turning her attention to a Russian soldier who entered the Mausoleum, pumping a shell through his skull, "Before more come!"

"Right right," Tatarstan sighed, "let's get out of this place, before they finally overwhelm us."

The trio ran out of the Mausoleum to be surrounded by FSB and police forces, barrels pointed at their heads.

"Hold up! Do you want your big boy to be hurt?" Tatarstan thrust out Lenin's body, to which the Russians froze upon seeing. She waved the body around, giggling as the police stepped back, unwilling to shoot the corpse. "Move back!" She roared, and the humans retreated behind their cars, their guns still pointed at her.

"How are we going to get out of this?" Tuva grumbled, aiming his RG-6 at a police car, "This possibly can't last forever."

"No," Tatarstan remained awfully cheerful despite their predicament, "Don't worry about it. We'll get out of here in no time."

"That better be true," Tuva grunted as more Russian security forces entered the Square, "Or else we're facing an execution squad here."

"And isn't that exhilarating?" Tatarstan retorted. She aimed her AK-12 at an unfortunate police officer and let out a burst of fire, hitting him squarely in the head. "The odds are stacked so much against us. I haven't had this much fun in ages!"

Yakutia had been ducking behind the staircase, stepping up occasionally to fire at the men below her. "I'm running out of ammo, Tatar," She giggled nervously, "I didn't think there would be so many guards out here."

Suddenly the air was filled with the loud whirring of propellers as several helicopters descended from the sky. Rockets landed amidst the Russians, throwing them into the air and turning cars into burning wrecks. They began to flee, only to be gunned down by the rotary cannons of the heavily armored helicopters. Another helicopter landed in front of the trio, opening its doors.

"You guys alright?" The hand of Kalmykia reached out from the inside, pulling Tatarstan up, giving her a questioning look once he saw Lenin's body. "The hell is that for?"

"Just playing with some toys," Tatarstan grinned. She pulled Tuva and Yakutia up onto the helicopter as well. "I'm sorry that we've had some fun without you."

"No need to apologize, there's still plenty of that to go around! Alright, let's move out!" Kalmykia smirked. He shouted to the pilot, who nodded and pulled the helicopter up into the air. The other helicopters followed suit, mopping up the rest of the Square before escorting the transport helicopter out of Moscow. As they flew over St. Basil's Cathedral one helicopter fired its rockets at the onion domes, destroying the centuries' old building. Kalmykia shouted with glee as the cathedral collapsed in on itself.

"I don't need this anymore," Tatarstan dropped Lenin from the helicopter, apparently finished with the former Soviet leader. She sat down in the helicopter, enjoying the chaos they wrought in the city. News helicopters flew all over Red Square, with police vehicles screaming underneath them. "Look at them run around!"

"This is a good victory to start off with!" Yakutia cackled, before abruptly stopping, looking intensely outside, "What about the Kremlin?"

"What about the Kremlin?" Kalmykia asked.

"Why aren't we attacking it?"

"Because it's not a part of Phase One," Kalmykia replied, "We've done enough for a first strike. I thought we went over this already." Yakutia looked glum, but she accepted this statement.

"Now on to phase two," Tuva muttered. He didn't look as excited, but Tatarstan knew he was thirsty for blood. Everyone here was, and they would be getting their fair share in no time at all.

* * *

Ingushetia watched the procession of Russians, guarded by Ingush militiamen march towards the large trench below the mountain Gora Shan. There were already hundreds of bodies piled at the bottom, riddled with bullets and reeking of blood and waste. He had for the past several hours been busy, executing countless civilians and disarmed security forces. He didn't care; all Russians were the same to him. They were pests that don't belong in his home, a blight that needed to be wiped out. And so he worked hard, his trigger finger was getting tired within the third execution and now opting to only oversee things as they went on.

The armed men herded the Russians up to the pit, many of them were only children. They were all screaming, red faced and latching onto their parents. The adults fared little better, they shuffled along slowly, their faces stricken with fear. They knew what their fate was; they've already seen the inside of the pits.

Ingushetia noticed one young girl holding onto her parent's hand. She was crying of course, her lungs must be working very hard to keep her wailing so loud. He frowned. How can something so young be so loud? It was grating his ears, causing him to lose focus on the tasks he had to accomplish.

After several minutes of incessant screaming he finally had enough. He grabbed a rifle and marched over to the child, ripping her away from her parent without hesitation. The girl kicked and screamed harder while the parent began a frantic attempt to pull her back, only to be smacked in the face by a rifle. She begged for her baby, but Ingushetia ignored her, tossing the child into the pit before shooting her with his rifle. The parent crumpled to the ground, babbling incomprehensibly until someone put a bullet through her head, falling into the pit. The guards opened fire into the crowd, slaughtering the Russians in a heartbeat.

Ingushetia watched the final bodies land in the trench, adding to the pile of corpses inside. He was proud of what he did. To finally have the freedom to do this-to do anything was liberating. It was like a breath of fresh air to him. Of course, the air he was breathing in now stinking, and he had to pinch his nose to keep from feeling sick.

Another group of terrified Russians came into view, and he moved back to let the guards continue on with their jobs.

* * *

"Augh!" Russia let out a pain-filled yell and grasped his chest, wincing and twitching all over his body. He curled back in his seat, shutting his eyes tight and gritting his teeth. "Blyat! Oh God!"

"Jesus christ! What the hell is going on? Where does it hurt?" England was the first one to rush to him. He was now extremely on edge. Whatever was happening to Russia was much worse than America at the moment.

"E-everywhere…" Russia gasped. "My entire body feels like it's on fire!" The usually cheery man was on the verge of tears, only held together by the gentle grasp of France's hand on his shoulder. "Something happened in my land, I-I think my capital was attacked!"

England snatched the remote from America's hand and switched it to a news channel to be met by a gruesome scene. It was an aerial shot of Red Square, looking over the carnage that had been wrought earlier that day. There were countless body bags across the square, while St. Basil's was still smoking. Russia let out a grief-stricken wail when he set his eyes on the tv.

"A terrorist attack rocked Moscow this morning! A trio of armed militants opened fire with automatic weapons in Red Square , killing a dozen civilians and wounded several more. The FSB reacted immediately, surrounding Red Square within minutes. But the terrorists holed themselves up in Lenin's Mausoleum, breaking the glass coffin and holding the body hostage."

"What the hell?" England watched with wide eyes, unable to look away.

"After a brief exchange of gunfire several unidentified helicopters, among them heavily armed gunships arrived in front of the mausoleum, picking up the trio and destroying the St. Basil's Cathedral before escaping, disappearing as quickly as they appeared. In all at least 36 people have been killed, with heavy damage to the Mausoleum and Square and the Cathedral in ruins."

Russia stared crying, and France pulled him into an embrace, patting his back.

"There there," France whispered.

"Holy shit…" Canada whispered.

"Why would someone do that?" Italy whimpered, latching onto Germany, "That's horrible."

"I know Feli," Germany replied, "I don't understand why someone would do this."

"Why? Who are these bastards is what I'm thinking," America growled. His fists were shaking, and his eyes were glued on the screen, angrily staring. "Ivan, whoever these bastards are, you better destroy them." Even in a state of weakness his hero complex was slowly gaining control, he never could see civilians hurt and not get riled up by it.

"Who, where, what happened?" China walked out from the kitchen, his arms full with plates of food, nearly dropping them when he saw the news, "Ayah! That is terrible!"

"Though the perpetrators are still at large and are unknown, we do have footage of the helicopter flying away, managing to capture the face of one of the terrorists on camera."

Footage changed to a helicopter flying away from Moscow, the camera following the vehicle intensely. It zoomed in to the woman sitting on the edge, tossing the body of Lenin off like it was garbage. She laughed as she watched the body land on the ground, before pulling her head back inside. Horrifying as it was, it only lasted seconds before the helicopter turned and flew out of city bounds.

"That's Tatarstan! Why would she do something like this?" Russia's eyes widened, recognizing the woman in frame.

"Tatarstan?" Canada questioned, "Who is that?"

"She's one of my Republics," Russia's pain was now replaced with a growing rage. He sat back up despite his body burning up, trying to force his shaking legs to support him though France kept him sitting down. "Why? How could she do this?" He winced and grabbed his chest again, but realized it was only his phone, buzzing with a text. But he wasn't in any position to answer it right now.

Everyone's jaw dropped at the revelation.

"You gotta be screwing with us," England muttered, "Why would someone attack their own country?"

"That's what I want to know!" Russia exclaimed, confused and angry at this apparent betrayal.

They went quiet, not knowing what to say or do. That's when the tv caught their attention again.

"This may have a connection with the sudden outburst of violence in the Northern Caucasus region, where already hundreds, if not thousands of Russians have been murdered in cold blood by Chechen and Ingush militias. There was a riot in Grozny today, expelling the entire Russian population from the city, causing even more deaths. Even as we speak more and more Republics across the country are seeing violence against Russians from the native populations at an alarming rate."

"God damn it!" Russia slammed the side of the chair, his temper flaring even more, "What the fuck is going on?" He put his hands over his face. "It's bad enough when one Republic goes rogue! When all of them turn against me…." His voice went monotone. "How could they do this to me?"

America felt his anger rise up as well. He knew Russia's feelings very well, perhaps too well. He still remembered the feelings he felt when the South seceded from him, starting the Civil War. And now something similar was happening to Ivan. It was painful to watch someone else go through the same chaos and suffering.

He then remembered that Ivan had gone through it before, right after the First World War. Ivan suffered terribly for countless decades, so to go through this again must have been mind-numbing. But if one thing was clear, it was that America would go through with this with him. He would put his rivalry aside to help his friend.

* * *

Belarus sat frozen in front of the tv, shaking and crying uncontrollably. The scenes of the Red Square terror attacks unfolded on the screen, as Lithuania expected would. He scooted next to him, letting her sob into his shoulder.

"Natalya…" Lithuania whispered.

"My brother's in trouble, Toris! That kind of major attack would be painful to even him," Belarus dug into his chest, "He hasn't even answered my messages, and he always does! Even if it's just an 'ok' it's still an answer!" She wailed.

If she was able to see Lithuania's expression she would not be clinging so tightly to him, for he had a sick, amused grin on his face. He was of course happy that the plan was going so well. The death count was a bit low, but that would be fixed in no due time, once phases two and three are initiated. There's a reason why the Eastern European countries cut themselves off from the rest of the world, as it had everything to do with the conflict within Russia. Nobody could see what was going on within the nations past Germany. Nobody could see the enormous military build up unseen since the days before the Second World War, ready to unleash a hellstorm upon the continent. Russia would be invaded yet again, and this time it wouldn't be Germany or France. This time, it would be the neighbors he brutally oppressed getting their revenge. The Axis invasion of the Soviet Union would be nothing compared to what's about to come.

But there was one giant hurdle in their plans, and it was ironic that it was Belarus. If she denied passage of soldiers through her land, then the invasion would be limited, making the entire effort useless. Lithuania really didn't want to take advantage of his lover, but he needed her tacit approval to move ahead with these plans.

"I'm sorry," Lithuania kissed Belarus's forehead, wiping away her tears, "You know he's a strong guy, he'll pull through."

"I know," Belarus sniffled. She stopped crying, but still looked miserable. She turned off the tv, unable to take anymore.

"Hey, let's not mope around like this," Lithuania patted her head, readjusting her bow. He needed to get her spirits back up, if not for the Armageddon it was for himself. He hated seeing her in such a mood, it brought him down as well. He caressed her cheek, hugging her tighter. "Everything will be alright."

Belarus' dark blue eyes looked up at him. "Promise?"

"I promise," Lithuania nodded.

"I know you don't like him, but I'm happy you're here for me," Belarus sighed and smiled. She sighed again and sat up. "You're a bigger man because of it." her face brightened when she saw Lithuania's face. She planted her lips on his, convinced that he really cared for Russia.

* * *

Siberia couldn't believe what she was seeing. To watch the aftermath of the Red Square Terror attack was horrifying. What those bastards did was unforgivable, even if they did have some justified grievances. She knew it was Tatarstan even before she saw the footage, which sounded off serious alarms in her head. She was one of the republics in her cabin just a while back, which already made Siberia suspicious. But now this proved what she had feared; Tatarstan and her friends had been planning an attack on Russia. Just how much of an extent this attack was still not known to her, but seeing the violence erupt all across eastern and southern Russia told her that it was larger than anything she'd ever seen.

She cursed herself. She should have told Russia then, warned him that a bunch of his own subjects were planning to attack him from the inside out. She should have acted on her instincts but didn't want to look paranoid. But considering how Russia himself was extremely paranoid, it probably wouldn't have looked too strange anyhow.

She facepalmed. She could have stopped this before it even began. But it was too late; blood had been spilled. People have been killed and a heritage site has been destroyed.

She sat up from her couch. No, it wasn't too late yet. She could call Russia right now, and though it may be too late for the initial wave she could still warn him about any future attacks. She pulled out her phone and called Russia, but it only ended up in voicemail. She let out another slew of curse words and slumped back in her seat. If Russia didn't pick up, maybe the others would. They would have certainly seen the news and recognized Tatar's face. Anybody could connect the dots on the series of events that just transpired in the past day.

She looked at the phone, before punching Karelia's number.

"Outti, did you see the news?" Siberia asked.

"Yeah, I know," Karelia replied, "I can't believe Tatarstan really did that."

"Not just them. Remember when we investigated the cabin?"

There was a moment of silence from the other end, before a gasp of realization.

"So this is what they've been planning," Karelia said.

"Yeah, and there's more to come. They won't just stop with this one attack, they've already increased their attacks all across the country. Hell, Chechnya pretty much began the Third Chechen War this morning!" Siberia exclaimed, before calming herself down, "Look, I tried calling Russia but he didn't answer. I don't know where he is or if he's okay, but the fact is that he's in danger either way."

"I haven't heard from him either. Where could he be?"

"I don't know, but almost every country in Eastern, Central Europe and the Balkans have closed off all communications from the rest of the world, so if Russia is somewhere in that area we won't be able to reach him at all."

"Funny how that is, all the countries on our border going dark right as a bunch of Republics decide to start a new insurrection," Siberia heard Karelia shout exasperatedly, "Damn it! Snejana, do you think that maybe it's not a coincidence? What if Tatarstan and her buddies are expecting help from Russia's neighbors?"

Siberia let out a groan. "I want to say that it's a stretch but at this point I don't know what to expect. Though-" She bit her lip, thinking about each of Russia's neighbors, "Each of them most likely has a grudge against Russia, so I can't say I'm surprised if they do take an opportunity to attack him. If they do, then this country is going to be in serious trouble."

"We only know a few of Tatarstan's allies: Chechnya and Ingushetia, Kalmykia, Tuva, Crimea, Komi, Yakut…"

"Khakassia and Chuvashia, Alta Krai, Kabardino, Balkaria and North Ossetia," Siberia finished, "And there's more but I couldn't figure out who they are, so we have to be very careful with this."

"So we potentially have both a foreign invasion and an overwhelming majority of our republics rising up against the country. Even if Russia is powerful, not even he could resist against an alliance for too long."

"This could throw off the balance of the world. If Russia falls apart, we'll all be left to our own devices. The whole international economy could collapse. The consequences are just…...endless."

"Maybe we should warn the Western nations."

"You really think Germany and America would listen to us? We're nothing special, we're just regions, on par with their states. I don't think they even remember us," Siberia grumbled. "Well, they probably only remember me as the place where Russia sends his criminals to die…"

"I am in contact with Tino, maybe he'll listen to me," Karelia suggested.

"That's….Finland right? That's actually a good idea. Give him a call, or meet him in person. He's a pretty reasonable guy."

"I'll go do that, and you keep an eye on the situation here, alright?"

"Got it," Siberia hung up and slumped back down on the couch, returning her gaze to the tv. Of course it was still news of the increasing violence in the country, what else would it be? It's probably the most important event currently unfolding in this day and age. She pulled out a piece of paper, writing down Tatarstan and the other conspirators' names. She would be watching them very carefully.

* * *

Khakassia twiddled with thumbs as a mob of people tore down the Vladimir Lenin statue in the capital of Abakan. A symbol of foreign oppression was finally being removed in his country. Several bodies surrounded the statue, Russians who had tried to defend the statue from the angry mob. That same mob had now grown to an army, bent on destroying the Russian majority occupying their homeland.

He was glad he was a part of the Armageddon. For the first time in what seems like centuries, he felt like he mattered. He wasn't some forgotten country in the far-flung territories of Russia, he was an elite member of the greatest alliance in the history of the world. He was finally valued as an equal, something he's craved for so long. And so when Chechnya offered him to join, he immediately joined.

It was a hard process to prepare his people for this upcoming war, as they were a minority in their own country, outnumbered nearly seven to one by Russian colonists. But Khakassia had managed to slowly instill into them a hatred for Russia, building up his military forces, most of them consisting of special forces. They had already been conducting an underground war against Russia, occasionally attacking Russians and shutting down businesses. And for all of his paranoia, the Ruskie failed to notice the uptick in anti-Russian sentiment here, until now of course. Now he may be fully aware that there is a situation within the nation, but it would be too late to contain the violence.

The sounds of gunfire echoed from somewhere in the city and Khakassia smiled. More people were dying, and nothing could be more uplifting.

* * *

Russia shakily stood up from his chair, his hand still grasping the arm.

"I'm going back," he declared. He barely reached the doorway when pain flared up in his leg, causing him to stumble into the wall.

"Ayah!" China leapt to pull him back up. "Be more careful!"

"Yeah, Ivan. Why don't you stay here for the night?" Alfred offered.

"You have your own problems, and I don't want to be a bother.I have to take care of this situation myself, and I'll have a better grasp of things if I'm back in my own country," Russia shook his head and stood up once more, "I want to talk to them, and if I have to, crush them."

"I'll take you home," China wrapped his arm around Russia's shoulder, "America's got others to take care of him."

"Hey, I can take care of myself just fine!" America raised his fist up.

"Yeah yeah and look where you ended up," England rolled his eyes. America glared at him, but the Brit just laughed.

It took a grueling walk to a cab and around fifteen minute ride until they reached an airport, where a plane was waiting for them. Once they got on flight attendants led them to their seats, where champagne bottles and snacks awaited them. They settled down, popping open bottles and munching on crackers and cheese.

Russia groaned, nesting his head on the window. He took out his phone, remembering there was a call he received when he was still in America's house. It was a call from….Siberia? He immediately called her back.

Within seconds she picked up. "Ivan! Where the hell are you?" She was on the verge of shouting, and Ivan winced.

"I was at America's place. He wasn't feeling too good so I went to check on him."

"I wish you would've told someone! I was worried something happened to you after the attacks!"

"I know, the attack caught me completely off guard. I'm going to return to Moscow and call a federal subject meeting to quell this insurrection at the core."

"Are you crazy? It's not just Tatarstan that's rebelling. I have a list of names that want to see you fall."

Siberia listed off the republics, and Russia felt his heart drop.

"And those are only the names that are known?" He asked tentatively.

"Yeah, so there's potentially a huge uprising on our hands. And there might be an invasion from your neighbors. You haven't spoken to any of them since they went dark, have you?"

Russia shook his head. "No. None of them have answered, not even Ukraine or the Baltics, and they're usually always immediate to answer."

"They must be planning something as well," There was an audible sigh from the other end, "Are you sure you want to call a meeting? That just puts a huge target on you."

"As if there isn't already one on me," Russia chuckled, "I'll be fine. It's going to be a trap for those that want to hurt me. There's going to be more allies than enemies anyway, they'll be outnumbered."

"If that's what you want to do, fine. I just hope you know what you're doing."

Russia hung up. He hoped he knew what he was doing too.

"You know, I'm feeling off as well," China groaned, rubbing his forehead. His cheeks were flushed and he was shaking. "I didn't think this feeling would come again after I unified…" 

"And what's that feeling?" Russia inquired.

"The feeling that my country's going to collapse into a war again," China poured champagne into his glass, "It's not an uncommon feeling. Three Kingdoms, Taiping, the Civil War and so on. It's a cycle I had gotten used to, I hoped that I would never feel this way again…"

His face strained and he slumped in his seat. "This is even worse than last time, and that was when Japan invaded me," He looked at Russia, his eyes narrowing, "Do you think the other countries are feeling the same things?"

"Who knows," Russia glanced outside, the only thing visible being a field of white clouds. He grimaced. "If they are, then that means we're going to be in big trouble."

* * *

**Hello, I hope you all missed me! I apologize, I've been busy with school work and these difficult times and what not, but I finally did it! So yeah, the first shots of the war have been fired, and it was towards civilians. This is a taste of what is going to happen in future chapters, so I hope you have an appetite for blood and war crimes.**

**So yeah, this first arc is mainly focused on the Russian Front, because it's obviously the first important theater. It also allows me to write characters that typically are not represented at all(the various federal subjects of Russia-republics, oblasts, etc) so I hope y'all enjoy it as much as I do. Don't worry, I will focus on other countries, and the backstories and motivations of several of the members of the Armageddon in the near future. I greatly appreciate reviews, it does help me motivate to continue writing this! So until next time, Adios!**


	7. Global Crises: Eve of War

**Thank you Vexey1999 for reviewing! **

* * *

Russia watched in silence as the last bodies were carried out of Red Square. He was horrified by what he had seen on the news, but to see the ruins of the St. Basil's Cathedral for himself was simply mind-numbing. He couldn't believe they would stoop to such tactics, to target buildings of such symbolic meaning was so disgusting it was something he himself avoided doing as much as possible. But the fact that it was a first strike meant that this war was something entirely else.

It was a war on Russian culture itself.

He sniffed, trying to keep the tears in. He didn't want to break down in front of all the people, many of them who were crying themselves. He was a nation, and he had to look strong in front of his people. But he was flooded with memories when he was just a young boy, excitedly running through the ornate hallways, sitting in silent prayer when he was a teen, and leading the effort to protect it from demolishment during the 1930s. And now after so many years, it was gone. _All gone. _

He screamed. Sadness, pain, anger, he felt it all. His heart had ripped in two, leaving nothing but an empty abyss. There was nothing else he could do, his body needed to express itself. The people around him noticed but didn't think anything of it, who didn't want to let out their feelings in a time like this? Tears streamed down his face, but he didn't even bother wiping it.

From the corner of his eye he saw a woman tentatively approach him, who gently pulled him up and into a tight hug. She was crying as well, but she wiped her tears before reaching up and wiping his face as well. "There there Ivan," She cooed.

"Moscow.." He leaned on her shoulder, letting her hold him. The woman was just around his height, her black hair tied in a long braid. He smiled as she patted his head, she was always someone he could rely on to make him feel better. He looked at her, and saw that she looked _terrible_. And no wonder, she was just attacked after all. Her face looked almost blue, and tears stained the inside of her glasses. And by the way she was standing, it was obvious it took a lot of strength to even stay balanced.

He detached himself from her, though keeping an arm on her shoulder. His anger was held down by a veneer of calm, and he managed to force a smile.

"Let's sit down shall we?" He offered.

* * *

Tatarstan had been laughing for too long now, and it was annoying Tuva to no end. Sure, attacking Red Square was a fun experience, but it wasn't _funny_. Now he wished he threw her out of the helicopter when he had the chance, though he would need one of the South American nations to show him the ropes.

"Man, when I threw Lenin out those Russkies really freaked out!" Tatarstan wheezed and wiped her eyes.

"I know, we saw," Tuva rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. They were in their secret hideout, more commonly known as Kalmykia's house. They were all lounging in his living room, watching the news covering what they did. "You know, maybe if you hadn't your face wouldn't have been on tv for everybody to see, especially Russia!"

"So now he knows she's complicit in the attack. If he gets a hold of her, how long do you think it'll take until he learns about the Armageddon? And then the entire world will know, and we'll be snuffed out," Kalmykia said.

"Don't worry about it, he probably thinks it's just another terrorist attack from a separatist group," Tatarstan countered, still recovering from the long bout of laughter. "He's not going to look too deep into any of this, I promise."

"And besides, Chechnya and the others are going to keep him busy for sure," Yakutia added.

"Whatever the case, we have to move carefully from now on. We can't be careless until we get the go-ahead for Phase Two," Tuva sighed.

* * *

North Korea chuckled. Those Russians sure did pull quite the stunt. It was impressive, she had to admit. The tv had just played a short segment on the events in Moscow before returning to something about the supreme leader. But she didn't care about that anymore, not that she did in the first place anyways.

She was in the Ryugyong Hotel once more. It was the main Armageddon hq in Asia, the perfect place to coordinate all activities concerning the East. Each continent had a main HQ and several bases to accompany it, creating a web that covered the entire globe, so that when World War III begins they will have an irrefutable advantage in communications, logistics, intelligence and situational awareness.

"Eunwoo, you want to do that to Seoul don't you?" Hong Kong sat next to her, his arm wrapped around her waist.

"Not to that extent, but maybe I do want to give South a little _shock_." North Korea giggled. "What about you and Beijing?"

"I want to burn it completely to the ground. Do you know how many people live in Beijing?" If one could measure evil by the expression, then Hong Hong's grin was one of pure evil.

"I can almost fit my entire population in there," North Korea said.

"One of your nuclear missiles and that's twenty million people gone," There was a twinkle in Hong Kong's eye as he chuckled. North Korea shuddered, and he laughed. "I'm not going to do that, it's too quick. I want to do it the old fashioned way, like the way Mongol Empire conquered back in the day."

"Please don't mention him again…" North Korea's eyes closed, massaging her temple, "Anyone but him please."

"Ah, sorry!" Hong Kong pecked her cheek to mollify his lover. "Didn't mean to ruffle your feathers with that comparison."

"It's okay. I get what you mean," North Korea blushed and let out a comforted sigh. She was glad Hong Kong had stayed for the past couple of days. The Armageddon was about to go in full swing, and she was getting the jitters. She needed all the emotional support she could.

It was clear it was the same for Hong Kong as well. He nuzzled her face, and she let out a small yelp. She tried to squirm away, but secretly enjoyed the attention he was giving her. There was a cough from behind them, and the pair turned around to see Taiwan slyly grinning at them.

"Okay love birds, I think I've watched enough," Taiwan laughed.

"You're just jealous you're not with your lover," North Korea scoffed.

"Yeah, I do miss him sure but I'm not jealous," Taiwan shrugged. But from the tone of her voice she was a bit miffed by this fact. "A-anyways, aren't there more important things to discuss?" She either didn't see Hong Kong's upset face or ignored it.

"Fine fine," Hong Kong grumbled, reluctantly letting go of North Korea. "So what's so important suddenly?"

"Tatarstan exposed herself on live tv if you hadn't realized," Taiwan said.

"So what?" North Korea shrugged, "At the most they'll just think it'll be Russia's internal affairs going a bit too intense again. In no way are they going to figure out what we're doing in Asia until it's too late."

"Everyone will be too focused on Russia to give a damn about what happens here," Hong Kong added.

"Well we shouldn't let our guard down regardless." Taiwan huffed.

"We won't. We've planned out every possibility so there is no way we can be caught unawares." North Korea smiled, her fingers slowly lacing around Hong Kong's. "There's no need to be so overstrung about this Mei. Just relax, if we get too caught up amongst ourselves we're just going to end up making crucial mistakes. The Armageddon has already started, it can't be stopped now."

Hong Kong chuckled, his attention returning to North Korea. However his eyes flickered towards Taiwan, and she got the message.

"Maybe you're right. I think I'll just go back home and make preparations for my own part for the Armageddon," She stood up from her chair. She had bothered the love birds enough, it was time to let them make up for lost time. She left the hotel, thinking about her own lover, wondering how busy he was…

* * *

Japan held back a yawn. He had been in America's house for what, how many hours now? He looked at the clock. Five hours had passed. Funny, it didn't seem that long, but he supposed the news would help pass the time.

That was the topic being discussed by the rest of the nations as of now. Even America, who had his own problems was focusing on the Russian events now.

"You're telling me this is not the first time Russia had trouble with his states?" America asked.

"Federal subjects, Alfred," England let out an exasperated groan, rolling his eyes at the clueless American, "To be more specific, his republics. They have more freedom in how they run themselves." America let out a 'ooh' and nodded his head, learning the political subdivisions of Russia.

"So they're countries within Russia," America concluded.

"Technically yes. They have their own constitutions and anthems, but they are still ultimately a part of Russia," England explained, "So they are like your states in a way. There are also Oblasts and Krais, they're pretty much the same thing. There's also okrugs, they're usually a part of a krai."

America nodded, taking mental notes. For once he seemed focused and serious about something other than himself.

"I think I get it," America said, "These republics, they like to rebel against Russia."

"Ja," Germany jumped in, "Most of these republics are the homes of minorities who want to become fully independent countries. Russia doesn't want that to happen, so he sends in his army to crush any resistance."

"So he deserves what he gets."

A small smile grew across England's face. "I guess you could say that. He swatted the hornet's nest one too many times, and now he's getting stung."

"That may be so, but this is no time to be laughing," France interjected, not appreciating the Briton poking fun at Russia's plight, "I've been feeling a bit off for a while now as well. Attacks and severe weather in my country, so now I'm worried if any of my regions hold any animosity against me."

"Yeah, France is right. Arizona and West Virginia disappearing at this time is also a little suspicious," America added.

"My headaches are getting worse as well," Germany said, and as if to prove his point he clutched his forehead.

England shrugged. "Yeah, I feel like crap too, but I'm not whining."

America shook his head. "Dude, maybe you haven't had a crisis in your country in a good while," He sighed, "It hurts like hell."

England whipped his head towards Japan and Italy. "What about you two? You two feel any different?"

Italy and Japan looked at each other.

"Yeah, I think the mafia might be acting up in the South again," Italy giggled.

"I could be feeling better," Japan quietly replied.

England's eyebrows arched downwards. "Okay okay, I guess everyone has problems, but I'm the only one not complaining. That just makes me a stronger country, doesn't it?"

"Actually, I'm feeling perfectly fine-" Canada tried to interject.

"I don't see why you all have to moan and cry about it," England waved his hand dismissively, his expression turning to the smug smirk that everyone was familiar with. Canada closed his mouth, not bothering to speak up anymore.

"I don't think that's important right now, what is that we're all feeling under the weather at the _same time,_" Germany said, "Isn't that even a little bit suspicious?"

"Germany is correct. Do you think this could be just one huge coincidence?" France asked.

England crossed his arms, his eyes looking away. "You know, maybe it is, maybe not. I don't want to throw out random accusations against those I see as family."

"We're not doing that," America raised his hand up, "We should all investigate what's going on within our countries. If our internal problems continue, then we can think of something more drastic."

Japan hadn't said anything yet, and that was because he didn't need to. He was feeling similar things as well, but he wasn't going to show it. It was probably Okinawa, she was always a stubborn, independent pain to the backside.

He looked at Italy, who had also been silent this entire time as well. He raised his eyebrows, giving an all knowing smile. Japan nodded back, giving a thumbs up.

He stood up from his chair. "I'll be off to the bathroom," he said.

"Me too!" Italy got up as well, following Japan through the hallways and to the bathroom. He sat by the door as the Japanese man went inside. Japan knew he wasn't waiting to go to the bathroom, merely making sure nobody would walk in on him. He needed to make a call.

* * *

Russia and Moscow were in an office inside the Moscow Kremlin, both drinking a cup of Russian tea. Outside the window the clean up of the square was finally in full swing, most of the bodies had been taken away and the smoke had mostly cleared from the destroyed cathedral.

Moscow was looking slightly better, the color in her face had returned and had changed into a more formal wear, now in the uniform of the Kremlin regiment. She was still shaking though, but that was understandable. She smiled at Russia in an attempt to comfort the man.

Russia returned the smile, though he was still a little unsure of himself. He still felt pain in his chest, but it was much better than earlier.

"Yevgenia my dear, we have a big problem on our hands," He sighed, "This isn't the first time my republics had acted against me, but to this extent is new."

"Should we deploy the military?"

"Da, we should protect the civilians and crush this rebellion," Russia turned the tv on, and of course the main headline was the continuing genocide of Russians across the country, "And I plan to call a meeting of all the federal subjects."

"You're kidding," Moscow gave him a look of disbelief, "That is a stupid idea!"

"Maybe so, but if they really want me dead they'll pounce on the opportunity."

"So you'll set up a trap?"

"Da, you are observant."

"It is quite obvious, Ivan."

"No matter. I have been told that the conspirators have other unknown allies within our midst. It will be a good chance to weed them all out at once. They will not send just one of theirs into the enemy capital."

The pain flared up again, but Russia bared it. He was getting used to the aching, by now it was just old wounds opening up again, not something he could be bothered by anymore. Moscow looked on with worry, but he held up his hand.

"Moscow, could you please send a message to all of my subjects about the upcoming meeting in two days please."

"Yes Ivan," Moscow bowed her head and walked out, leaving Russia alone to plan out his trap.

* * *

Chechnya listened to the fighting in Grozny. The massacres of Russians had settled down, as they had armed themselves and become resistant to the Chechens. It wasn't made any better now that the Russian military was finally reacting, giving the more lightly armed Chechen rebels a difficult time.

Her faint hopes dashed, she ducked behind an abandoned car, barely avoiding a Russian tank driving across the street. This wouldn't be as easy as she had prayed for, but why had she been so hopeful in the first place? It was Russia, of course he was going to throw his military at her.

The tank turret exploded when it was hit by an RPG. The entire street turned into a battle as both sides threw men at each other, and Chechnya was forced to retreat from the block, firing her pistol at heavily armed Russians. She was able to hit one in the chest, giving her a little bit of satisfaction.

That satisfaction only grew when she felt her phone vibrate. She opened it to find a message from Moscow. It was an order for all federal subjects to assemble in the Kremlin for a meeting.

Chechnya looked at the message for a good minute. Moscow was only the messenger, Russia was the one who gave the order. But why? That confused her. He must know by now that there are several republics that are fighting him, why would he want to call them to his capital after it was attacked?

It took her a moment to realize it was an obvious trap. Of course, what else would it be? And it was a bold one at that. But not only was it a trap, but it was also an obvious golden opportunity for the Armageddon. They could flood the assembly with members of the Armageddon to overwhelm Russia and his oblasts. It would be a quick blow, capturing the Russian and allowing the Armageddon to gain a huge advantage against the rest of the world.

While she was looking at the message her phone rang, this time it was from the second in command of the Armageddon. She immediately accepted the call.

"_Hello Hadijat,_" The second man's voice crackled through the phone.

"Ah, hello!" Chechnya felt a cold chill crawl down her spine. This was one of the men that had built up the whole organization. He was someone she both respected and feared.

"_As you know, Tatarstan has been compromised._"

Chechnya's cheeks flushed. Yes, she'd seen her girlfriend on tv, and was quite embarrassed by Tatarstan's recklessness. "I'm sorry about her, I should have told her to be more careful-"

"_No matter, this is a slip up that can be quickly remedied. Phase Two is now in order, you may relay this to your allies._"

Chechnya beamed. Finally, they can move on with their plan! "Oh, Russia called a meeting, should we go to Moscow? I'm most positive it's going to be a trap."

The Second man thought for a bit, before finally answering. "_Yes, it most likely will be. While nothing would be lost from not going, we will gain something if we infiltrate the Kremlin. Obviously you or Ingushetia may not accompany her-it will be too suspicious. You will choose who will go with her to Moscow._"

"Okay," Chechnya was a little upset that she wasn't going to be able to accompany Tatarstan on a potentially dangerous mission, "I'll tell her."

"_Don't fret over it. You know she's capable of this, you have nothing to worry about. Your main objective is to capture Russia._"

The Second man hung up, leaving Chechnya to relay the message to her lover, to which she quickly called her.

"_Hadijat?_" When Tatarstan picked up Chechnya felt her heart skip a beat.

"_Ocpocmaq_! You're safe!" Chechnya exclaimed.

"_I am. What about it_?"

"Well, you did receive the message from Moscow, haven't you?"

"_Yeah. How are we going to deal with it? You got orders, don't you_?"

Chechnya gulped. "You're going to be sent in along with a few other members."

"_Oh…._" Tatarstan went quiet, "_Okay, I'll go. Who else is going with me?_"

"Tuva, Kalmykia, Yakutia, Crimea, Chuvashia, Altai Krai, Komi and Tambov. They will accompany you to infiltrate and capture Russia."

"_What about the others?_"

"Kill them, capture them, do whatever you feel like," Chechnya sighed, "It hurts me that I can't go with you, and I'm going to be worried to death for your safety."

"_I know you are, and I am for you too. I'll be safe, I promise._"

"I promise too."

"_I love you, Hadijat,_" Tatarstan made kissing noises from the other side.

"I love you too," Chechnya kissed back, hanging up. Even though she was worried she had a grin on her face. The Armageddon was finally kicking off in high gear.

* * *

**Let me explain briefly what the Federal Subjects of Russia are. There are six types: oblasts, Republics, Krais, Federal Cities, Autonomous Okrugs, and an Autonomous oblast. They are the top level political divisions in the Russian Federation, akin to the states in America and prefectures in Japan. There are 85 of them, though 2 of them are in the Crimea, which is still internationally recognized as a part of Ukraine. They are all equal subjects in the Russian Federation. **

**Oblasts are the most common with 46 of them, and can typically be translated as "regions" or "province". They are mostly named after their administrative center-i.e. Capitals. The only ones that aren't named after their administrative centers are Moscow and Leningrad oblasts, as Moscow and Saint Petersburg are federal cities, and Sakhalin Oblast, named after a geographic location. Unlike republics, krais and okrugs, oblasts are predominantly inhabited by majority ethnic Russians and Russian speakers, so they are for the most part loyal to Russia. **

**There are 22 republics, and they mostly represent an indigenous ethnic group, and are named after them as such. But because of previous Russian/Soviet policies a few of these republics have their own ethnic groups be a minority in their own country. They have more rights and autonomy than the other subjects, having their own official language, constitution, and a national anthem. From the 20s to the 60s these Republics suffered from Soviet policy of Russification, deportation and massacres, or to put it more simply genocide. Even after the collapse of the USSR their position did not get much better, as the Russians crushed any attempt of independence. This is why many of the republics have joined the Armageddon. **

**Krais are pretty much the same thing as oblasts, just with a more traditional name. There are 9 of them. **

**Autonomous okrugs are both a federal subject and a type of administrative divisions for oblasts, the only autonomous okrug not subordinate to any oblast is Chukotka autonomous okrug. **

**Federal cities are cities that act as both an inhabited locality and a federal subject. There are 3 of them, being Moscow, Saint Petersburg and Sevastopol, the last being in the disputed region of Crimea. **

**There is only one Autonomous oblast, that being the Jewish Autonomous Oblast in the Russian Far East. As the name implies, it was originally set aside for Jewish settlers in the early 30s, though the number of jews that actually lived there was always a minority, at its height only 50,000 in 1948, or around 25%. From there the number declined, mostly because of Stalin's anti-jewish purges. The Jewish Autonomous Oblast, or the JAO, is a member of the Armageddon for this reason. **

**That's pretty much my understanding of the federal subjects system in Russia at the least. **

**I've edited the previous chapters a little to make it easier to read, so there's that as well. **


	8. Global Crises: The First Casualties

**Thank you Miyukidreams05 and vexey1999 for reviewing!**

* * *

A UAZ patriot SUV drove across the vast expanses of the Russian Far East, flying through the empty plains on the single concrete road way past the speed limit, as it was the only vehicle for miles on end. It was the lone sign of life in an otherwise barren wasteland.

But that didn't mean the SUV was quiet. On the contrary, it was filled with the blaring of Russian rock music from the stereos and the chatter of five Russian federal subjects.

"Turn it up, this is my favorite song!" Magadan, a girl in her teens screamed from the back left seat. She was the most far away oblast from Moscow and had not been to the west in years, so she was all excited to go to the capital for a meeting regardless of what the implications of the urgency at which the meeting was called.

The man in the passenger chuckled. "Isn't it loud enough? I can barely hear myself think," He was of indigineous origin, wearing baggy pants and a reindeer hide shirt. Kamchatka Krai rolled his eyes at the young girl and cranked up the volume to an unbearable degree, causing the entire SUV to shake from the noise alone.

"Thanks Kam!" Magadan began throwing her head back and forth, her short blonde hair getting in the face of the unfortunate soul stuck in the middle of the back row, who had to pull himself away from her.

"Calm down, will you?" Khabarovsk Krai exclaimed. He was the fourth one to be picked up, and so had the luck of being pushed into the middle by the last member of the group and fellow Krai, Primorsky. But whatever pleas he made, the young oblast opted not to listen, her ears filled with the lyrics of Nikogo Ne Zhalko.

Kamchatka laughed some more, shaking his head at the energetic girl. "Just let her be, Khab. She hasn't been out this far in a long time, she's excited to go on an adventure."

Khabarovsk looked annoyed, but seemingly dropped his grievances. "I can't even sleep," He grumbled underneath his bed.

"You're going to sleep through the meeting so stop complaining," Primorsky stared out the window, trying to distract himself from the mind-numbing car ride.

"That's true," Khabarovsk muttered, "It's still going to make me deaf."

Kamchatka looked amused with the three in the back. "If you want to see something funny," He leaned his seat back just far enough for Magadan to slam her head on his seat.

"Ow!" Magadan cried out, clutching her nose, "What was that for?" She put her head on her seat, groaning in pain. She glared at Kamchatka and at Khabarovsk with a stare only an angry teenager could pull.

Khabarovsk stopped himself laughing too much. "I'm sorry, I was just bored!" He pulled his seat back up and looked back at her, "Are you okay?" He asked.

"That hurt like hell!" Magadan growled.

Khabarovsk sniggered. "That's what you get!"

"You're acting like such a child!" Magadan yelled at him. Khabarovsk retorted by calling her a brat in return, which caused her to begin pulling at his hair. And all this Primorsky watched from the corner of his eye, a wry smile plastered on his face.

And then the radio turned off, taking everyone by surprise.

"Hey!" Magadan shouted.

"Thank goodness," Khabarovsk slumped in his seat, relieved that the car was finally quiet.

"All of you be quiet!" The driver ordered, and the subjects went silent.

"Finally Chukotka, you speak up," Kamchatka said.

Chukotka Autonomous Okrug grunted. "I don't mind chit chat, but this is my car, and I will kick off the next person that does anything stupid."

* * *

Magadan sat glum, watching the plains pass by. Everybody had been silent for some time now, Chukotka's threat seemingly working. She looked over at Khabarovsk and Primorsky, both of whom were fast asleep. She closed her eyes, trying to also get some sleep. But she was soon tuned in on the conversation in the front between Kamchatka and Chukotka

"Have you gotten any more texts from Moscow?" Kamchatka asked.

"No, I've gotten nothing," Chukotka replied, "Russia is always secretive."

"This is definitely related to the attack on Moscow, that's for sure."

'I can't believe Tatar would do something like that. I would have thought maybe Chechnya, but not Hadijat…"

"She must have been holding her hatred of him for a long time."

"I would think many of us do," Chukotka said angrily, before fixing his tone, "Not that I do. I don't have a problem with him."

Kamchatka let out a little chuckle. "Neither do I. I think I can name a few that do though…" Madagan imagined him smirking as he said that.

"Same here. At least most of the Caucasus republics, maybe a few in Siberia and in the Far East, who knows how many enemies Russia has..."Chukotka added. Madagan felt herself drift off to sleep, still trying to eavesdrop on the two men…

* * *

Madagan jolted awake as the car slowed to a crawl. Wiping saliva off of her face, she looked over at the two krais, who were waking up from their nap as well, looking disheveled and dazed.

"What...where are we?" She asked, shaking off her drowsiness.

Chukotka looked back at her, looking extremely annoyed. "There's a road block up ahead. It's a checkpoint of some sort."

"We're in Yakut country, Nagorny to be exact," Kamchatka answered, "I don't know what's going on though…"

Madagan opened the window and peeked outside. Not far down the road there was an armored car, with several heavily armed men standing at the town entrance. She couldn't tell if they were Russian military or some sort of militia.

One of the men stepped up to the car, motioning Kamchatka to open his window, to which he did.

"Hello, what's this?" Kamchatka put up a cheerful front, despite being confused, and from what Madagan could tell, even a little scared.

"Sir, this is just a simple guarding post," The oriental man replied. He was wearing the uniform of the Ministry of internal Affairs of Sakhka, his finger too close to the AK74's trigger for the comfort of everybody in the car.

"Oh, well could you please let us through? We're on official business and we must go to Moscow as soon as possible," Kamchatka asked nicely. He knew that humans subconsciously understood that the personifications of states and nations were important, and in normal circumstances would listen to every whim and command. No human would dare disobey a personification, lest it be the last thing they do.

But it appeared to be that circumstances were _not_ normal.

The policeman motioned with his free hand to motion Kamchatka to step out of the SUV. "Sir, there have been reports of insurgent activities all across the Federation, and we are ordered to stop every vehicle for a search. Please step out of the car." By the way he pointed his rifle at the car, it was not a request.

Kamchatka sighed. "I supposed it cannot be helped. It's for security and safety," He turned to face the back. "You three go outside and stretch or something."

Madagan opened the door and dramatically let out a loud yawn, shaking her legs and arms and jumping around the road. While this was an odd situation to say the least, she was glad she had the opportunity to let herself recuperate from the several hours of being cramped in the car.

Khabarovsk was on the road, stretching and cracking his back and hips. "Finally!" He exclaimed happily. Primorsky was also doing exercises, jumping up and down.

Chukotka reluctantly stepped outside, looking uncomfortable. "I'm not so sure about this…." He said.

"Mm? What is it?" Madagan asked. She quickly caught on to his uneasiness, and surveyed the area on her own. There were at least a dozen or so police officers, all armed with assault rifles. And they were all stepping around the SUV, slowly surrounding the group of travelling subjects.

And they all seemed off to her. They seemed a little distant, not like usual humans who were more warm and friendly, even in serious situations like these. But these men, they were a little...robotic in their actions, searching the car and talking to Kamchatka, who was too engrossed in conversation to realize something wasn't right.

"Chukotka…" Madagan whispered, grasping his hand.

Chukotka gulped, watching the officers stand around, watching them. "You feel it too, right?" He grimaced when he saw her nod her head. "Something here feels….sinister…"

"What?" Khabarovsk asked, completely oblivious to his surroundings.

The first officer was now talking to someone on the phone, staring directly at Kamchatka and speaking in what Magadan assumed was in the Yakut language. He nodded his head and ended the call with whoever he was talking to, turning to his comrades and issuing orders in his native tongue. All the policemen nodded and stepped forward, unslinging their guns.

It was then that Madagan realized what was going on.

"EVERYBODY RUN!" She screamed, pulling Chukotka along as she broke out into a run off of the road.

The policemen began to unload their assault rifles, peppering the federal subjects with bullets. Kamchatka didn't even have time to let out a single noise as he was riddled, slumping over the hood of his UAZ Patriot, blood spilling out of his broken body.

Khabarovsk and Primorsky crumpled to the ground as half a dozen guns emptied their magazines in them. One of them cried out in pain before a police officer finished both of them off with a bullet to the head.

Madagan and Chukotka didn't get very far, only becoming targets as they faced their backs towards the Yakuts, giving them time to pinpoint them from afar and picking them off. Both of them collapsed on the ground, neither of them quite dead yet.

Chukotka let out a painful moan, trying to crawl away. But the first Yakut officer stepped up to him with his pistol unholstered, pumping a bullet into his head. Chukotka's brain splattered across the ground, and his breathing ceased.

The policeman glared at Magadan, who was twitching and gurgling blood. "So she was the one who realized," He mumbled, kicking her over and shooting her until she was dead, "She was too smart for her own good."

* * *

"Get it done," Yakutia hung up the phone, looking even happier than before.

"Who was that?" Tuva asked.

"It was one of my police officers," Yakutia explained, her grin widening, "They found a bunch of krais and an okrug and oblast at a town close to my border. I felt them coming in so I had a few of my men quickly set up a checkpoint."

Her phone rang again, and she picked up. Her face glowed with insane glee as she nodded, putting it down once more.

* * *

Kirov Oblast was simply sitting in his living room, not doing anything in particular. He had received the message from Moscow, but he wasn't in any rush. By plane he would be in Moscow in an hour and a half-he had time to relax.

He heard a knock at the door, and went over to open it. He grinned when he saw his neighbor and good friend, the Komi Republic.

The Komi man smiled warmly. "Hello, Kirov! May I come in?"

"Of course!" Kirov pulled the door open to let Komi in. Komi sat down on the couch while he went to get two beers. He sauntered back from the kitchen, tossing the beer can to Komi, who caught it and opened it.

"So what's up?" Kirov asked, cracking open his beer.

Komi took a small sip. "I was just wondering when you were going to go to Moscow," He replied.

Kirov slowly put his drink down, "I'm not in any sort of rush, really. I can go anytime, as we have until tomorrow morning to go. Now that I think about it," He looked like he had a stroke of genius, "Maybe I can invite others here as well, we can all go together tomorrow!" He exclaimed excitedly.

Komi smiled darkly. That was something he hadn't expected, but it was perfect, he could work with that.

Kirov began punching in numbers for different subjects. "I just invited a bunch of others, oh man this is going to be a sweet party."

"Who...did you invite?" Komi asked.

"I invited Udmurt republic, Perm Krai, Bashkortistan, Orenburg, Samara, Chelyabinsk and Chuvashia," Kirov rattled off.

Komi smiled more. That was a lot of people to deal with, but one of the subjects Kirov invited was a fellow member of the Armageddon, which was an added bonus.

"And they'll be here in a few hours. Oh man, I hope I have enough beer for all of them," Kirov giddily said as he stood up to go check his fridge once more.

He walked to his kitchen and opened his fridge, counting the boxes. He sighed in relief when he saw that there would be more than enough for all of his guests. Still happy, he trotted back to the living room.

Komi was waiting for him, and instead of a beer can in his hand, it was a pistol. "Why don't you take a seat?" He asked politely, but the edge in his voice was threatening.

Kirov's eyes widened. "What is that-"

"This is an MP-443 Grach semiautomatic pistol, my good friend. Please, _take a seat_," This time Komi's voice was hostile, not even hiding the malice he held.

Now shaking with terror, Kirov hastily sat down across from him. "Why are you doing this?" He asked, his own voice barely coming out of his throat.

Komi looked annoyed by this. "Because," he downed his beer, "Tatarstan did her part to start this war, now it's my turn to continue fanning the flames."

"What?" Kirov stared at Komi. "T-Tatarstan?" He blinked, "You two are working together?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact we are," Komi admitted, "And there's more of us than you could ever imagine."

"But why?" Kirov demanded.

"Because we're sick of Russia and the world we live in," Komi spat on the floor, to which Kirov cringed, "All these years he's been keeping us down, controlling everything we do, killing our people!"

He glared at Kirov. "Oh, I guess you've never had to experience any of that, have you? To have your culture be suppressed, for the people you consider your own to be slaughtered and be taken away?" He stood up, his face contorted with rage, "We've had enough! We've suffered for long enough, it's time for the bastard to pay!"

He pointed the gun at Kirov's head, and for a moment seemed to calm down. "And that starts by killing off all subjects that aren't with us," He said, "by killing you, we hurt Russia. We will cripple him."

"Wait!" Kirov scrambled off the chair, horrified at these revelations. He stared at Komi with wide eyes, terrified by his friend. "Please, don't kill me! Aren't I your friend? I haven't done anything to hurt you, have I?"

Komi shrugged. "No, you really haven't. You were a good friend," He sighed, looking down at Kirov with a pitying look, "It's nothing personal, but this is something we have to do."

He pulled down the hammer of the pistol. "I'm sorry, but this is the end for you. I hope that you get into heaven, it's the least you deserve."

Kirov screamed as Komi pulled the trigger. There was a thunderous bang, and the oblast was on the floor, a bullet in his chest and lifeless.

Komi put his pistol away. He had done it. He had killed his neighbor and friend. While he was sad that Kirov had to die, it was for the greater good. Never has the phrase "the end justify the means" fit so perfectly then what the Armageddon was doing now. The deaths of a few would liberate the rest of the world, and that put his mind at rest.

Now he has to deal with the body before the rest comes. He knew there was a basement in this house, and that was where he would dump Kirov. And nobody would blink an eye when it was him that would open the door. He smirked, knowing that this impromptu ambush would be fun to execute.

* * *

Stavropol Krai was too scared to even take a step outside his house. All of the republics surrounding him were in the midst of an ethnic civil war-Russians were being slaughtered in the tens of thousands. And now it was spilling into his territory as well, the various minorities were rising up and taking over major cities and towns, forming mobs and murdering Russian civilians. The Russians themselves were arming themselves and fighting back with military support, but they were too outnumbered and unable to match the brutality their enemies produced.

He sympathized with his neighbors-they suffered heavily under Russian rule. But he didn't want _this_, not this degeneration of civilization and basic decency.

He had an AK-47 by his side, which made him feel a little bit safer. But still he hid from the outside world, his tv blaring report after report of atrocities committed across the Caucasus. His chest felt weighed down, and he knew there was an unwanted presence spreading across the oblast.

He jumped when someone knocked on the door. The first thing he did was grab his gun. "Who-who is it?" His voice was shaky, not a good way to sound intimidating.

"Hey, Stav!" A familiar voice called from the other side.

"D-Dagestan?" Stavropol audibly gulped. He was one of the republics in which there was a violent uprising against the Russian Federation. If he was here, it couldn't be anything good, was there? "What are you doing here?"

"I was just checking in to make sure you're okay," Dagestan said. It sounded like he was enjoying Stavropol's terror. "Have you been hiding in your house this entire time?"

"Yeah," Stavropol replied, quietly flipping the safety of his AK47 off. He slipped over to the door, grasping the door knob. "And now that you know I'm fine, what are you going to do now?" He demanded.

"I've gone through great lengths to get here, I would at least like to see your face again," That friendly voice had some deadly undertones.

Stavropol frowned. For some reason he had a feeling that being face to face with the republic was a very bad idea. "I'm actually quite ill, you see, and I don't want to get you sick as well," He put the muzzle against the door and pulled the trigger.

The kalashnikov burst to life, tearing holes through the wood and flying outside. He didn't stop until the gun went _click_, signifying the empty magazine.

He slumped by the door, dropping the rifle. Dagestan should be dead, at least for the time being. If Stavropol was wrong about him he would simply apologize later, but he trusted his instincts. And now they told him to leave this place as fast as possible, despite the violence around him. Or especially because of the violence, he had to go to safer lands.

The meeting, of course! He would go to the meeting and tell Russia about this. He would be much safer there. But even now his chest felt heavy, as if there was still an evil presence on his land.

He slowly opened the front door, expecting a mangled body on the porch. Instead the end of a barrel stared into his face, Dagestan smiling menacingly and completely unharmed.

"You think I wouldn't be prepared to be met with resistance?" He snarled, "The only thing I had to do was step to the side to avoid that!"

And before Stavropol could do anything a bullet punched through his skull, spraying blood out the back of his head. Dagestan emptied out his revolver into his body, kicking the dead oblast to the ground. He took one last look at the body before turning away from the house, off to eliminate more subjects.

* * *

Russia had been feeling awful for the past few days, but it was nothing compared to the pain he was going through now. Now he lay slouched on the table, unable to move a muscle.

His subjects, they were being killed off. No, they were being murdered in cold blood. He could feel his control over the dead subjects fade away, meaning that they weren't just temporarily dead, they were gone forever.

And that scared Russia more than anything else. He knew there were ways to perma-kill personifications, but it was either difficult, extremely expensive or forced to simply wait for the country to reach the limit of its natural lifespan-which varied wildly from one country to another. And now the enemy, as he was now simply calling them, had obtained a way to kill personifications in a quick and easy manner.

He cursed through gritted teeth. This was possibly the worst thing to happen. It was a power too easy to abuse, and it was something even he himself had to use quite a number of times, though it was something he always regretted doing afterwards.

He groaned. Why? Why was this happening to those he considered family? They didn't deserve being erased from this world! He was going to fix this, he would swear to his dead comrades that he would avenge their senseless deaths.

* * *

"Why did Kirov invite us over?" Orenburg asked. He was sitting in the passenger seat, watching a village fly past them.

"I don't know but why not, chilling out with a beer sounds fun," Chelyabinsk was at the wheel, her hands barely touching the wheel. She smiled and looked at Orenburg. "I think we can all use a drink at this time, no?"

Orenburg bit his lip, faintly nodding and admitting that it would be a good way to process the events of the past couple of days.

"And Komi's already there," Chelyabinsk added, swerving around a pothole, "So this is going to be one huge party."

The swerve caused the man in the back to wake from his sleep. Bashkortistan rubbed his eyes and glared at the female driver. "What the hell was that for?" He snapped.

"I was avoiding a pothole!" Chelyabinsk explained.

The Bashkir man groaned and rolled back over to sleep again. "Whatever, just don't drive erratically again."

"Alright, I'll try not to-hey wait a second WEAR A SEATBELT!" Chelyabinsk looked back in shock and shouted at him, but he was already fast asleep once more.

Orenburg smiled at the commotion until he realized Chelyabinsk was _not_ keeping her eyes on the road. "Chel, front FRONT!"

Chelyabinsk swiveled her head just in time to avoid swerving off the road. "Holy shit!"

Orenburg held his breath as she kept on driving. If she was this bad driving sober, imagine her driving drunk or hungover. Tomorrow he would drive them to the airport, that's for sure.

The car behind them honked, and Chelyabinsk returned it by slamming her horn in return. She let out a breath of relief and settled down driving once more.

* * *

"What the hell are they doing?" Udmurtia muttered underneath her breath. She was following Chelyabinsk to Kirov's house as a part of the group staying at his house for the night.

"They better not be drinking," Perm Krai muttered, crossing his arms. He stared at the car in front of them, watching Chelyabinsk and Orenburg probably arguing with each other for some mundane reason. "I don't know why we put them in the same car."

In the back Samara was busy playing RAID: Shadow Legends. "Yeah, whoever had that bright idea should get smacked," He snickered, "Poor Bash."

"He chose to be with them, that's his own fault," Perm threw in his own two rubles, "They're like a small family; Chel and Oren are the parents, and Bash is the poor child…"

"Now isn't that a bit rude?" Chuvashia was on the other side of the back row, wearing a formal suit and his usually short choppy black hair gelled down.

"Nope, not at all!" Udmurtia exclaimed. Everyone in the car laughed at the expense of the occupants of the first car.

Chuvashia was laughing for a different reason. Everyone else didn't know it yet, but they would not leave Kirov tomorrow. Komi had messaged him about Kirov's death, and now he wanted to participate in the killings as well. Killing humans was one thing; it was fun no doubt, but ending personifications was a thrill he yearned for. Such a rare opportunity at his fingertips!

He was getting restless as the cars neared Kirov's house. Chelyabinsk slowed down, waving at them as she drove into the driveway. She looked so excited for this gathering, she even put on stunning makeup, to impress who he could care less, but she looked pretty good in that. What a waste.

"Should someone text Kirov?" Perm asked. To answer his own question he pulled out his phone to do exactly that.

Chuvashia couldn't wait any longer.

The car in front of them exploded, a fireball erupting from within the vehicle. The three occupants were engulfed in the flames, unable to escape the inferno.

Udmurtia screamed, putting the car to a complete stop and jumping out of the car. "Chel! Oren! Bash!" Tears streamed down her face as she helplessly watched the hood of the car explode, showering the vicinity with fire and burning metal.

"Get down!" Perm was outside and pulled Udmurtia away from the car, just barely avoiding the shrapnel hitting her car.

"They're inside!" Udmurtia cried, trying to run back to the burning car to save them, "They're still in there!"

"Don't be stupid! They'll come back!" Perm kept her back. He was just as horrified as everyone else, but he needed to keep it together.

"Still!" Udmurtia broke down in his arms. Perm pet her hair, trying to hold back tears as well. He knew that the explosion had killed the three inside, there was nothing they could do. But why did this happen? Who would do this in the first place?

Both Samara and Chuvashia were frozen inside their car, their eyes fixated on the conflagration.

"Jesus…" Samara muttered.

Chuvashia held his hand against his mouth, as to both look petrified and to cover his grin. "How…."

The door swung open and Komi ran out into the driveway. "What the hell happened?"

"I don't know! It just suddenly...exploded with them still inside!" Udmurtia was sobbing hysterically, hanging onto Perm, who was still comforting her.

"This is insane, who would do this?" Samara growled.

"This is a horrible death, even if they are going to come back," Perm muttered.

"They're not going to come back," Chuvashia pulled out his knife and slid it across Samara's throat. The oblast let out a surprised gurgle before he fell to the ground.

"Oh my god!" Udmurtia backed up from him, her eyes wide and her legs buckling. She stared at the dying Samara, unable to comprehend what just happened.

"You...YOU did this?" Perm roared, lunging towards the Chuvash man. Chuvashia simply stepped aside, catching the Krai and throwing him onto his back. Perm hissed in pain as a boot landed on his solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him.

"Why?" He sputtered as Chuvashia loomed over him with the bloody knife. "What do you mean they won't come back? Why would you do something so horrible?"

There was no emotion in Chuvashia's face as he lowered the knife right above Perm's heart. "We found ways to...permanently eliminate personifications. It used to be something only knowledgeable in the ancient world, but in recent years many countries have rediscovered ancient technologies, or have mixed in the old with the new to create modern weapons that can kill nations. Like the bomb I put in the trunk of Chel's car."

Perm was speechless. He couldn't believe it. The man he thought as a friend and neighbor was no more than a sociopathic murderer! "Why?" He demanded through sobs.

"I'll spare you a monologue, so I'll just say this; this is the beginning of a civil war to destroy Russia, and the start of a worldwide revolution to overthrow this current order and replace it with a new and more fair world. This is nothing against you, but this is goodbye," And with that Chuvashia plunged the knife into Perm.

Perm seized up, trying to claw up at Chuvashia before the light left his eyes. Chuvashia pulled the knife out from the corpse and wiped the blood with a handkerchief, now turning to the fear-stricken Udmurtia.

Udmurtia took a step away from him, her entire body shaking and her mouth trying to form words, only to make incoherent sounds. The only thing she could do was try to run, but even that didn't get her far when Komi grabbed her wrist.

"Sorry, but we can't let you leave here alive," Komi said as he shot her in the head. She fell to the floor, lifeless. After making sure everyone was completely dead, Komi gave Chuvashia a good glare. "What the hell? I didn't know you had a _bomb_!" He threw his hands into the air.

"Sorry, I just had to," Chuvashia sheepishly laughed, "Come on, let's burn these bodies."

* * *

Moscow looked through the ever increasing amount of reports coming from across the country. Violence and the spike of increase in deaths of people was disturbing to say the least. She bit her lip, annoyed and worried about what was going on. In less than a week over twenty-thousand Russian civilians and soldiers have been killed in subjects with a Russian-minority. They were being driven out in a deliberate act of war.

She could try to reason that all of these conflicts were unrelated, but everything pointed to the opposite. Chechnya, Ingushetia, North Ossetia, Dagestan etc. were all somehow connected. If this was all tied together, then she feared for Russia's safety.

If her worst fears were realized, then the country would fall into a civil war.

* * *

Italy was on his private jet, flying back to Rome. Everybody else had left America's apartment in New York City as well, needing to check into their own countries after witnessing the growing regional conflict within Russia.

What he feared most was Romano and his bastard child. He knew that while they were representing one nation, they were vastly different from one another. That had caused tension in the past, the most recent during the Second World War, when Romano had betrayed him and joined the Allies. That seriously hurt Italy to the core.

And he still had a hand in the mafia in the country, which was something he longed to get rid of. Once Romano was taken care of, he can sweep in to destroy the mob and finally teach that upstart Sicily a lesson or two.

He smirked. Everybody else was having problems, but not him. He would deal with _his_ when he gets home. He won't ever be caught off guard.

* * *

**Holy crap, honestly I did not think it would be **_**this **_**crazy when I first wrote it. I almost feel bad writing states that never have any representation, only to kill them off. I'm sorry people of the federal subjects I've killed off, perhaps in another story they will live. **

**Anywho, the first deaths, just whoah. So yeah, usually when personification dies its only temporary. Chuvashia and Russia did mention ways personifications could be killed, and I will get into that later in the story. I do have a few ideas, but nothing **_**too **_**concrete as of yet. It may have something to do with ancient techniques and technologies, and maybe magic if I choose to include magic in this story(May or may not who knows yet). **

**Also, I do keep track of the human casualties of this war as well. I might put them in the afterword, or I even might make an entire story that follows the conflict through human eyes, or rather by "news"? The personification of news(idk honestly) will deliver the course of the war(like The Great War/Between Two Wars/World War Two lol). I don't know if I'll do that, but I will keep track of conflicts, battles and casualties. It's a weird "hobby" of mine to create timelines of wars and keep track of statistics. I just like seeing how large the scale of conflicts can get. **

**I've been rambling for far too long. I hope you enjoyed this intense chapter. The next chapter will be **_**much much more intense! **_**I hope you're excited, because I sure am. I really appreciate reviews, it helps me improve my writing and helps to inspire me to keep writing! Anyways, until next time!**


	9. Global Crises: Battle of the Kremlin

**Thank you Yours The Author, Vexey1999 and Anime4life5 for reviewing!**

* * *

It had been several days since the Red Square attack, and still Moscow was reeling from the aftermath. The entire city was on lockdown, every entrance and avenue guarded by military police. The Air Force was on standby, fighters and SAMs ready to defend the skies if an unknown force once again descended from the heavens. All everybody knew was that a terrorist hailing from the Republic of Tatarstan was responsible, and that it was somehow connected to the great uprising in the North Caucasus, and that put everyone on edge. Nobody wanted a _third _Chechen War, let alone a conflict in the entire region.

Moscow sat in the State Kremlin Palace, waiting as the federal subjects began filing into the auditorium. Most of them were from the western oblasts, as they were geographically the closest to the capital. There comes Belgorod, Bryansk, Ivanavo, Kursk and Tver, all chatting with one another. They sat in the row closest to the podium.

"Lookin good there, Tanya!" Kursk whistled at Moscow. Moscow blushed and playfully stuck her tongue out. The Russian men laughed and went back to their conversation. Moscow shook her head at the men. They were idiots, but good natured ones.

She looked at all the oblasts coming through the doors, wary of each one. Who knows how many of them were still on Russia's side, or were aiding the enemy? It put her on edge, feeling this day was going to be a fateful one.

* * *

Prussia was in his old home in the city of Kaliningrad, formerly known as Konigsberg, cleaning as he was listening to recent news. He had a very deep interest, or rather stake in this whole conflict unraveling in the Russian interior. He was living in Russia's westernmost oblast after all, so if anything happened to Russia, it would affect him as well.

He was finishing up cleaning the living room when there was a knock at the front door. He took off the bandana around his head and put the broom and dustpan in the corner and ran to see who it was that wanted to see him.

When he opened the door a teenage girl flung herself at him. "Daaad!" She screamed. She looked a lot like him, having a dark greyish ponytail and having a strange eye color just like him; light purple instead of his red.

He grinned. "Heya Tatyana, I thought you were going to go to the meeting Russia called?" He kissed her forehead and pulled her inside.

Tatyana, or rather the Kaliningrad oblast pouted. "You think I'm going to fly all the way just for a meeting? No way!" She threw off her shoes at the entrance and put on some slippers, "Those are way too boring, honestly."

"Really? When I went to the world meetings, those always devolved into chaos. It was fun watching everyone tear each other to pieces!" Prussia's smile broadened, reminiscing about the times he was still an actual nation. He patted her head, guiding her towards the kitchen. "I'll get some stuff out for you to eat, so you just sit tight."

Kaliningrad looked around the room, noticing the cleaning equipment. "You really have an obsession with cleaning, don't you?" She teased, smacking Prussia on the back.

"It's not an obsession! I just like to be orderly!" Prussia's face turned a slight red, "You know, Prussian discipline!" He went to the kitchen to pull out leftover dinners from the fridge.

"I know," Kaliningrad chuckled and sat down by the table, "An old man that doesn't keep up with the times, that's what you are."

"Hey now, people still respect my traditions! Just look at Chile!"

"I don't care about some South American country," Kaliningrad shrugged her shoulders and stabbed a Konigsberger klopse with a fork, "All I care is that you're my senile dad."

"I am the opposite of senile! I'm not that old, am I?" Just then something in his hip cracked. He groaned and leaned on the counter. "Damn it maybe I am."

"You might be, but you're still my number one dad," Kaliningrad stood up and wrapped her arms around the German, dragging him to a chair and force feeding him his own meatball.

Prussia chewed and swallowed. "Even more than Russia?"

Kaliningrad nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, more than Ivan."

Prussia beamed. "Awh, you're my favorite daughter," He pinched Kaliningrad's cheek.

Kaliningrad squealed and scooted away from him. "Stop, you'll make me blush!" She giggled, "you're such a ladies man."

Prussia rolled his eyes. "I wish I was."

Kaliningrad laughed some more. "What about Hungary?"

Prussia's expression soured, it was obvious he still held some feelings for her. "She's all over the idiot Austria," he mumbled, "I don't know what she sees in him. Honestly he's been a bumbling fool this entire time."

Kaliningrad knew she had hit a sore spot. "Sorry dad," she slid back over sheepishly.

"It's fine," Prussia said, though his eyes were still looking far, far away.

"daaaad," Kaliningrad poked him with another meatball, forcing the Prussian to glare at her, "don't be such a downer. Forget about her, just focus on eating your klopse."

"Hey!" Prussia shoved the food away from his mouth. "The hell is wrong with you?"

Kaliningrad smirked. "Come on, big guy. Stop thinking about Hungary. Spend time with your daughter instead!" she pounced on Prussia once more, "Come on, let's hang out!"

Prussia sighed. Even though she was supposed to replace him as the owner of his country, he couldn't bear any hard feelings towards her. She was just too much of a sweetheart, and she was someone who openly cared for him, which he was very grateful for. He was her dad, after all! Russia be damned, he should be ashamed for calling her his oblast!

"Fine, fine!" Prussia finally cracked a smile, softening enough to let the girl crush him between her arms. He felt something was off, but didn't want to alarm his daughter.

* * *

"God, those two," Estonia muttered from the passenger seat. His eyes were glued to the binoculars, staring up at Prussia's house. He had a disgusted expression, which was somewhat amusing to Latvia. "I thought they were family!"

"He's her dad, if I remember correctly," Latvia chuckled. He was sitting by the wheel, who was looking out into the streets of the city.

"Disgusting!" Estonia spat, but since it was Latvia's car he opted to roll down the window before doing so.

"I mean that's good for us, when we finally get the orders to act we can use that to our advantage."

Estonia smirked. "You're right. It'll be fun to threaten Kaliningrad and watch Prussia squeal."

* * *

Chuvashia flicked the cigarette out through the window as the car approached Moscow. He saw the helicopters and military patrols he grew a little uneasy. "Hey Komi, you think we'll be able to get through?"

"We're subjects, aren't we? We're not _subject_ to being searched," Komi laughed at his own pun.

Chuvashia was not so easy to please. "Did you really forget about Tatarstan? Russia is going to be careful, he's going to check everyone."

Komi's face dropped. "You're right, damn that Tatar!" Out of sheer annoyance he honked his horn, causing many of the cars around him to begin honking as well. That upset him even more. "Shut up, humans!"

The honking competition lasted throughout the entire highway. Fortunately no human exited their cars to confront him personally, as that would have been the last thing they would have done in their lives.

Chuvashia rolled his eyes and kept his eyes on the capital city. He knew how many of his comrades would infiltrate Moscow. They would be outnumbered by at least four to one-while those odds weren't the best, it was exciting in a way. To be in the midst of an unknowing enemy, it was an exhilarating thought.

"Why are you looking so happy?" Komi finally stopped his honking spree.

"Why aren't you? We're finally going to punish Russia!"

"I know, but isn't it nerve-wracking?"

"It is, but the positives outweigh everything else."

"It sure does," The two men smiled darkly as they neared the military checkpoint.

* * *

Kalmykia let out a sigh of relief when he finally entered the city limits. Now it was only a little more than a half hour until they reached the Kremlin. Nobody else in the car was speaking, they were all deep in thought about their mission.

Tatarstan had not tagged along, as it would only implicate all of them. Instead she had left Kalmykia's house after them to make it seem she was on her own.

The city was quiet, bringing on them an even deeper sense of unease. Had they not been a part of the Armageddon they might have even had a sense of foreboding.

"This is a little creepy, there isn't even anybody outside," Yakutia stared at the empty neighborhoods, "Only policemen and BMPs."

"They're all scared. The attack really shook this place to the core," Tuva said.

"They have a right to be scared," Crimea chuckled.

They drove across the Bolshoy Moskvoretsky Bridge, seeing the remains of the Saint Basil's Cathedral for the first time. There was police tape cordoning the former Russian symbol from passersby. They inwardly smiled at the scars of the attack, but were careful as to not alert the plethora of military police.

After entering the Kremlin he parked his car, and the subjects got out. There were more guards standing by, as well as other subjects who were making their way towards the State Kremlin Palace. A few of them waved at Kalmykia and the others, but most of them kept to themselves.

Two men piqued Kalmykia's interest. Tambov and Altai Krai, fellow members of the Armageddon looked at him and gave him a knowing bob of their heads. Kalmykia nodded back to them. It was now only a little bit until the show began.

* * *

Austria was in his manor in the alps, trying to separate himself from all the recent news concerning Russia. He was content of staying here alone in his ornate mountain home, with an endless amount of coffee and his lavish library. Lord knows it was much better than the depressing world right now.

He was more worried about the silence from Eastern Europe. Many of them had been under his house while he had been an empire, and he considered them as family. Hungary especially, she had been his wife for half a century, dating for several centuries beforehand. The fact that she's been quiet as well was quite frankly...unsettling. He had called her several times, but it always went to voicemail. Even during the Cold War years they've remained in contact, and for her to go dark now could be nothing good.

He finished his fifth cup of coffee. A mix of caffeine and worry had made him stay up for several nights now, and it was only getting worse. He didn't know what was going on the other side of the iron curtain, but the fact that he could do little was infuriating.

He was getting so worked up that he almost didn't sense the stranger entering his country. He could feel the person coming closer, as if the person knew he was here. The feeling was familiar. No, it couldn't be….

There was a knock at the door, and Austria made a dash to the front. He swung it wide open to see Hungary standing before him.

"E-Elizabeta!" Before he could make a move Hungary tackled him, his senses being overwhelmed by her.

"Roderich," Hungary whispered into his ear, wrapping her arms around him. "I'm sorry for being silent for so long."

"I-" Austria sputtered. What was he supposed to say to her? That it was okay? The fact that she was here was more than okay, but the situation surrounding it was clearly not. He was just going to speak his mind. "I missed you, liz."

"I missed you too," Hungary was clinging a bit too long onto him, but Austria didn't mind at all. Practically carrying her, he walked back to the living room.

* * *

The two were sitting in front of the fireplace, Hungary's head on Austria's shoulder. She sighed contentedly, snuggling up to the Austrian man. "I know I worried you a ton, Roderich, I'm sorry…"

"Now that I know you're safe, it's okay," Austria smiled, "I just have a few questions."

"Yeah, I can guess you do."

"Why did you and the other countries in Central and Eastern Europe cut off contact with the rest of the continent?" Austria cut right to the chase. Hungary pursed her lips. She looked slightly uncomfortable, but Austria was going to push it, he had to.

"Well, it was first just a simple alliance," Hungary sighed, her fingers twiddling with Austria's tie, "And I guess we just got a little bit too caught up and paranoid...we were scared of Russia and Germany, and we sort of just….pooled all of our resources together to protect ourselves. We thought that if we cut ourselves off from the rest of the continent we would be better off."

"And look what's happening inside Russia! It can spread outside of his borders, and we won't be able to deal with it as easily as he can," A sheepish grin grew on Hungary's face, "Actually, I was the one who suggested we cut all communications with the rest of the world."

"Elizabeta…" Austria looked down at her in shock. What was she thinking? How would that work in their favor? "What were you thinking?"

"Actually, I haven't been telling the entire truth," Hungary added, and Austria felt a lump in his throat. She looked at his scared expression and smiled softly. "I may have had a hand in starting the internal fighting inside of Russia."

"Huh?" Austria gaped at the woman as if she was insane, "You….helped the terrorists attack Moscow?"

"They're not terrorists," Hungary corrected him, putting a finger over his lips, "They're subjects who are tired of being under Russia's rule. It was just a preliminary attack, the real war begins today, in the Kremlin."

Austria tried to slide away from Hungary, but she grabbed his wrist. She was strong, and he found himself unable to escape from her grasp. "War? Why, Elizabeta?"

"Because many of us are tired of this corrupt and unjust world," Hungary told him, her green eyes staring intensely into him, "We've had enough of being scared of countries more powerful than us, to constantly be overshadowed and be looked down by everyone else. We want to be the ones in control for once! And there is no other way to achieve this goal other than via world war."

"World war…." Austria shook his head, trying to wrap his head around this entire thing, "You can't be serious. Haven't we gone through enough? You can't do something like that in this day and age!"

"But we are," Hungary's voice was still warm, but there was a hint of malice in it, "We've been planning this ever since the second one, and it's finally being put to action. We've prepared our entire population for this conflict, two _billion_ people mobilized for an _absolute Total War._"

"Who else is a part of your group?" Austria failed to hide the fear in his voice.

Hungary smirked and listed all of the names of the Armageddon, causen Austria to pale.

"You can't be serious. You're joking..." Austria quivered, "That can't be. And for _him_ to be the leader..."

"I'm afraid so Roderich," Hungary purred, putting her hand on his cheek, "We have allies everywhere. We're going to carve up the world according to what we've planned out. We're going to kill the evil countries….Russia, America, China…"

"What about Ludwig and Gilbert?" Austria demanded, his fear drowned out by the worry for his friends. "You're not going to hurt them are you?"

Hungary sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "That's honestly not my call. It's up to those who want revenge on them. Don't get me wrong, I do want Germany to get what he deserves, and I am close with Gilly but…" Her voice trailed off for a bit, before she leaned against him once more, "My main concern is with you. I don't want you to get hurt by all of this."

"Me? Are there countries that want to hurt me?" Austria knew he was strict with his territories during his time as an empire, but had he done anything to merit violence against him? He sincerely hoped not, that would be much more painful than whatever physical damage they could do to him.

"They're all too focused on Germany and Russia, and all of them know that I'm going to protect you" Hungary giggled.

That both pleased and sickened Austria. He was happy that Hungary would make sure he would be safe, but it was more that the others would be consumed by hatred against his stronger neighbors. But something irked him. By safe would he have to…..

"You won't have to relinquish your sovereignty," Hungary answered as if she could read his thoughts, "You won't be a part of my territory, or as a colony or vassal. We'll be in a union, just like in the old days. Won't that be nice?"

In any other circumstance Austria would have agreed. But he realized he would be just used as a pawn in her…..their plans. He refused that the ferocious yet kind-hearted Hungary could be one of the leaders of such an evil conspiracy. "I...I don't know."

"You don't have a choice, Roderich. I don't want to be away from you anymore. I want you, I _need _you," Hungary stood up, towering over Austria.

Austria could say nothing, only looking up at her in newfound fear. What could he say in response to that?

* * *

Lithuania was sitting on Belarus's couch, enjoying a nice cup of tea made by his lover. He was looking at his phone, on it messages from other members of the Armageddon.

Their members within the Russian Federation had successfully infiltrated the Kremlin, in the very heart of the nation. He knew the battle was soon to be upon them, so he needed to finish preparing for his own part in this grand symphony.

Belarus sat next to him, snuggling up to him. "What are you up to?" She asked.

Lithuania quickly exited out of the messages. "Oh, Poland was just messaging me," He replied, "We were just talking about the growing Russia problem…"

He cringed when Belarus's expression soured. "It's important for all of us!" He exclaimed, "If something happens to him, it usually means we'll get pulled into it as well."

Belarus sighed. "I know," She muttered.

"That does remind me, I've been talking to the other countries in Eastern Europe, and we've been forming a collective security alliance. Estonia, Latvia, Czech and Slovakia, Romania, Bulgaria, Hungary, your sister…" Lithuania wrapped his arms around her waist, "We've been pooling our resources together. Economic, political and military cooperation for the entire east."

"Why wasn't I told of this before?" Belarus's dark blue eyes bored through Lithuania, and he felt he was being interrogated, before turning her face away from him, "Were you not going to tell me at all?" Her voice was quivering, and Lithuania realized just how hurt she was.

"No, that's not it at all-" Lithuania tried to reason with Belarus.

"You've changed in the last couple of weeks," Belarus said exasperatedly, "You've been out working longer. You've been more distant towards me. All you care about these days is politics, and I just feel like a burden to you. Am I just not worth your time anymore? Do you not trust me?" Tears were brimming on the edge of her eyes. She had been holding it in for sometime, and finally let her feelings out. The last thing she wanted was to accuse Lithuania of anything, but she'd seen his behavior changing even before the whole mess in Russia started.

"I do trust you!" Lithuania said. Had he changed around her enough for her to doubt him? He had been overwhelmed in preparing for the Armageddon, but was it really that bad to the point he was neglecting her? He hoped not, because as much as the Armageddon mattered to him, Belarus mattered just as much.

"I'm sorry for not telling you sooner, I was just so busy with everything…" Lithuania put a hand on her shoulder.

Belarus sighed. She knew he was being sincere, but it was still strange to her. It felt as if he was hiding something from her. He wouldn't cheat on her, would he? No, he spent literal centuries trying to get with her, there's no way he would turn his back on her now.

"To be honest," Lithuania's voice made her perk up, "This is mostly just a protective alliance against Russia. We were all afraid he would try to do something against us, try to bring us back into his sphere. And being his sister I thought you would disapprove.."

Belarus's heart lightened. That was a perfectly reasonable excuse, was it? It made perfect sense actually. She _had been _obsessed with Russia for far too long, and Lithuania was afraid he would lose her, wasn't he?

"You are an idiot," She whispered. She faced him, a faint smile on her lips. "You were always a bit thick in the head."

"Wha-" Lithuania was unprepared for the kiss Belarus gave him. He relaxed, pulling her closer to him.

"Just tell me everything from now on, okay?" Belarus's eyes twinkled.

Lithuania nodded. "Yeah. I'll do that from now on."

* * *

Ukraine smirked at the message on her phone. She had just received new orders, and was now finally given a free hand to activate her armies.

She would soon reclaim all that was stolen from her.

* * *

Russia had never been this nervous before. He stood in front of his subjects hundreds of times without a hitch-but now he knew there were many who wanted him dead, and that was a confidence booster by any means.

He was waiting in a room outside of the meeting room, closing his eyes and meditating for a few minutes. He had talked to China and other Asian countries, and found that it _did_ help him with calming him down.

He looked at his watch. It was almost time for the meeting to start. He exhaled, slapping himself to energize himself. This meeting was his most important yet, he had to look good in front of his subjects! He walked out of the room and into the hallway leading to the meeting room, flanked by two Russian police officers armed with assault rifles. Even here he was still a little paranoid, afraid that he'll be attacked by some unseen force.

And his body still ached. He knew a number of his subjects had been killed, but didn't want to believe it. It was a faint hope, but he really hoped that those subjects would be here today.

He marched through the stage entrance, where Moscow was waiting for him. "Is everyone here?" He asked.

Moscow shook her head. "Nope. We have most of the western and northern subjects, but beyond the Urals, well let's just say only a few managed to make it."

Russia's heart sank. This finally confirmed the deaths of his family. And the killers would be here, he knew it. They wanted him to watch him suffer, to bear the pain of losing control.

They were going to get more than they bargained for. Russia was hurt, but more importantly he was angry. And when Russia gets angry, there are going to be consequences.

* * *

He walked up to the podium, staring at the subjects sitting in front of him. Many of his western oblasts waved at him, and he returned the gesture.

He tapped the microphone, making sure it was working. "Thank you everybody for coming," His voice echoed throughout the chamber, and everybody's attention was now onto him.

He sighed. "Many of you may be wondering why you are here. Many of you _can _guess. We all know that a few days ago, one of your fellow subjects had decided to take action against me. Tatarstan-" There was a visible reaction from many, and he knew they all knew as well, "She has committed the gravest of offenses a personification of any kind could commit." The subjects began to murmur, which turned into angry shouting.

"That traitor isn't here to face her crimes!" Kursk exclaimed.

"The entire Caucasus is up in arms again!" Saratov oblast added, "Their attacks are spilling into my land!"

"I know she isn't here," Russia put his hand up, and the crowd went silent. He sighed again. "But she isn't alone in this, as many of you may have guessed. She has allies-both within and outside of this federation."

There was a collective gasp. Acting on your own against Russia was one thing-the Caucasusian republics were infamous for doing just that. But for them to get outside help, now that was unprecedented and scary to think about.

"Many subjects have decided to band together in an effort to overthrow me, and to kill all of those who stand in their way," Russia sounded grim, because the situation was indeed so, "yes, they have _killed _several of your fellow subjects in cold blood. And not just the usual, temporary state of death, but actual, permanent death."

"H-how is that possible?" Tver's voice was shaky. Russia couldn't blame him one bit, he was just as scared as everyone else. The fear was apparent on everyone's faces, though Russia noticed the reactions of some of the subjects within the crowd to be suspicious.

"There are ways to do that, and apparently Tatarstan and her co-conspirators have found a way to mass-produce weapons capable of such destruction," Russia answered as best as he could. He couldn't tell them the more probable reason-that Russia himself was making those same weapons in secret factories all across the country. It was for just in case of course, he was only going to use them as a threat, right?

"Oh, you make it sound so _evil_!" Tatarstan's gleeful tone sang from the entrance, making the room several degrees colder, and subjects scrambled away from her as she made her way down the auditorium. She looked extremely smug, her piercing blue eyes on Russia the entire time.

"You did make it," Russia's glare was no less cold, for all intent and purposes eyeing Tatarstan down, "Have you come to surrender yourself?"

"Surrender? What, no!" Tatarstan laughed, stopping at the stadium, right below Russia. "You complicate things so much. A conspiracy? Really? I wish I had such a huge following, but I'm a lone wolf." She smiled, as if to hopefully convince Russia.

"Really?" Russia wasn't surprised by her bold-faced lie; why would she admit it? At least she was 'honest' about committing the attack, though there was no way she can refute it either. "What about Chechnya? She began another insurrection against me the moment you struck."

"I told her of my plans beforehand, and she simply took advantage of that," Tatarstan was still grinning madly, "she supports me in everything I do. Whatever happens, we'll do it together."

Russia's eyebrows arched. "Are you two-"

"Yes, we're together. We love each other, is that so wrong? Is it so bad to act on our feelings?" Tatarstan's smile dropped, her tone much more acidic,

"No, I was just taken back. I didn't think either of you were like that," Russia said.

"What? Is it because we're both women?" Tatarstan scowled, "You've forced us to hide our true selves! Hadijat was fearful of being found out and purged, you sick bastard! Even the act of loving someone was enough to be beaten and sent to prison!" Tears formed as she hissed at Russia, "You don't know how hard it is to be away from someone you love!"

Russia bit his lip. "I'm sorry, I didn't…" He stopped. This was getting off topic. As much as he felt for them, it didn't justify what they did in return. "You still attacked Red Square! Civilians and subjects are dying as we speak!"

"I know, and there's nothing you can do about it," Tatarstan snarled, "You'll wither away, watching helplessly as all of your people get slaughtered."

"I'm not going to let that happen. I'm going to stop you and your little group," Russia said.

"I told you, I'm alone," Tatarstan's tone was still amusingly confident.

Russia smirked. "Oh really? That's not what I was told. In fact several of your friends are here with us," Everyone in the audience suddenly looked at each other suspiciously, as if to figure out who was the infiltrator. They didn't need to, as Russia already knew who they were.

"Kalmykia, Tuva, Yakutia, Crimea, Altai Krai, Chuvashia, Komi! Would all of you please stand up?" He relished seeing those subjects squirm as they stood up, realizing they were caught. The others looked horrified and recoiled from those that were called out.

"Why am I being called out?" Altai Krai demanded. He gave Russia a glare that oozed guilt.

Crimea also gave Russia a dirty look. "We didn't do anything, did we?"

Russia smirked at him. "Besides conspiring to kill me and your fellow subjects, nothing at all!" There was a predatory look in his eyes, locking onto those that stood, "You're stupid if you think you can fool me."

Tatarstan sighed, putting her hands in the air. "Fine, you got us. Congratulations! What now, are you going to punish me? Put me on trial?" Despite being caught red-handed, her smug grin remained, "Should I just hand myself and my colleagues in?"

"That will certainly make things easier for all of us," Russia stepped away from the podium, glaring down at the Tatar, "I would like to avoid as much bloodshed as possible."

"I'm sorry, but it's beyond that now," Tatarstan was quick to reply, her hands still up, "You can't stop this conflict from expanding. Even if we die here today, there are others who will continue the fight until we are victorious."

"You know you _are _outnumbered and surrounded right?" Russia pointed out. Tatarstan's eyes gleamed, and he finally saw she was holding something between her hand-it looked like a phone.

"You know that was a part of the plan, right?" Tatarstan chuckled, and her thumb pressed down on the phone.

"What did you do?" Russia shouted. The confidence he had just moments ago had evaporated; he was on the backfoot, and everyone knew it.

Now it was Tatarstan to once again give Russia a condescending look. "Oh, you won't have to wait long to see…"

* * *

JAO was on the outskirts of Moscow with several dozen rocket launchers waiting for the signal from Tatarstan. She and the others were in the city, doing their part for the Armageddon, and he finally wanted to join in.

The Jewish man huffed at the sight of a peaceful city. Damn it, what were they doing? Why were they taking so long? The longer they waited, the harder it would be to pull this off!

Then his phone rang. He eagerly took it out and saw the message, his face brightening and turning to his rockets. "OPEN FIRE!" He screamed.

His maddened laughter was drowned out by the rockets, launching themselves out of their pods and towards the city. He could see the sky light up with hundreds of missiles and rockets flying over the metropolis from all directions, all fired at once at Tatarstan's order. This metropolis would be unsuspecting to an attack of this magnitude…

* * *

Russia didn't understand what Tatarstan had just done. Confused, he stared down at the woman and her phone. "Who did you just message?"

"Be patient!" Tatarstan snapped, "do you not hear that?"

Russia listened intently for a few seconds before noticing the light rumble from afar. Then it turned into an overwhelming roar as the rockets dropped all over the city. Everyone let out a wail of fear while Russia and Moscow screamed in agonizing pain, the latter collapsing onto the ground.

"Moscow!" Russia rushed over to the woman. She was wheezing, blood dripping out of her mouth. He grimaced, still feeling the effects of the attack throughout his body. He bent down to pull her back up, though that only made his body feel even worse.

"She….they dropped rockets onto the city," Moscow gasped. She put her hand on the podium, and with everything she could muster slowly pulled herself up. "hundreds….no...thousands were outright killed…" Despite the pain she was able to give Tatarstan a hate-filled stare through her cracked glasses.

Russia stood back up, marching towards Tatarstan. "You monster!"

"You think that's the only thing?" Tatarstan taunted the two as more explosions rocked the city. Soon enough the chattering of gunfire reached the halls of the State Kremlin Palace, the doors broken down by Russian military forces. They began to spray the crowd with their small arms, causing the subjects to scatter.

That was the cue for the other members of the Armageddon to act. Grabbing weapons thrown by the rogue soldiers they began to ambush and slaughter the subjects around them.

Ryazan and Lipetsk jumped to restrain Tuva, but he was quick, elbowing the former in the face and grabbing the latter in the head and twisting it, snapping his neck.

Ryazan staggered back, blood pouring out of her nose. She snarled and charged Tuva, but he only caught her, holding her in place. They stood there, grappling each other and engaging in an intense staring contest.

That was until Tuva swung his head back and smashed it against Ryazan. She staggered back, her forehead blue and bloodied. Her vision was becoming hazy and her breathing heavier, and she was starting to lose focus against her enemy.

She needed to stop him. He was their brother, and he betrayed them. She couldn't let this traitor get the best of them. They couldn't just let him go scot free…

"You alright?" Tuva asked, clearly relishing in seeing her suffer.

"Be quiet," Ryazan snapped, "Don't underestimate me..." Her legs buckled, and the last thing she saw was the sight of Tuva standing over her, brandishing a knife towards her chest.

* * *

Yakutia pulled out her knife, plunging into Kaluga's throat, quickly drawing it across and throwing the dying object down the aisle. Several oblasts squealed and jumped out of the body's way, before gunned down by Armageddon troops. She laughed and jumped out of the way of Kalmykia, who was finishing up with Ulyanovsk oblast.

Kursk stood up, followed up by Tver, Bryansk, Ivanavo and Belgorod. They stared down Altai Krai, who simply raised his eyebrows at them.

"Alright traitor, we've got you surrounded and outnumbered!" Kursk shouted.

Altai Krai shrugged. "And so it seems," He answered.

"Is that all you have to say?" Kursk swung his fist towards the Krai.

Altai simply stepped aside, sticking his foot out and forcing Oblast to stumble. "Pathetic," he smiled and thrusted his foot into Kursk's ribs.

Kursk felt several of his ribs cracked and screamed. Altai sneered, but before he could do the finishing blow he was toppled over by Tver, Bryansk and Ivanavo. They were about to beat him down but he pulled out two pistols, shooting each of them through the head. He stood up, continuing to smile at Kursk, who was still on the ground, gasping for air.

"Poor poor Kursk…" Altai whistled, stepping closer to the fallen man, "You're going to die as a simple subject, nothing but a servant of Russia."

"Shut up," Kursk croaked, spitting out blood. He crawled away from the Krai, his legs slipping on the blood of his friends.

Altai kicked him, and with it a loose tooth flew out of his bloodied mouth. "You're in no position to threaten me," He picked up Kursk, putting up the pistol against his throat, "Say goodbye."

"Goodbye to you!" Belgorod punched Altai in the face, sending him crashing into Tula, who shrieked and ran towards the exit.

"You bastard- '' Altai tried to push the oblast off of him, but Belgorod continued to smash his face in. Kursk could only watch the two men wrestle on the ground, trying to gain an upper hand. He noticed something on the ground next to them, and saw it was one of Altai's P-96 handgun!

He reached his hand out, but he was a little bit too far away. He swore as his body burned, but he had to grab the pistol before Altai noticed. Pushing through the pain he outstretched his arm, his fingers curling around the trigger of the pistol.

"Belgorod!" He shouted. Belgorod looked over and saw the gun, while Altai was too busy trying to push him off to notice.

Belgorod looked down at Altai. "You know, usually I would say that I wish we could have talked more, but if I did I would feel a lot more guilty about doing this."

"Doing what?" Altai looked confused, but from the corner of his eye saw Kursk aiming the gun at his head. "NO!" He howled, trying to twist away.

Belgorod jerked his head up, putting his temple right up against the barrel of the P-96. Kursk closed his eyes as he pulled the trigger. The loud _pop_ and the slight recoil of the gun meant that he had made the shot. He opened his eyes and saw what remained of Altai's head-it was cracked, with blood pouring out of the gaping bullet hole. His lifeless eyes stared into Kursk before slumping down on the ground.

"Come on, let's get the hell out of here," Belgorod seemed unconcerned with the blood that had sprayed all over his arms and face, only standing up to pull Kursk up, "You good?"

Kursk slowly nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine," He answered, wrapping his free arm around Belgorod's shoulder. Kursk still held the former Krai's pistol, shooting policemen as they limped their way towards the exit, where already many oblasts had escaped this massacre.

* * *

Crimea faced off Pskov, staring each other down. "You're not running like the others." He said.

"Why would I?" Pskov asked, his focus completely zeroed in on the republic. His fists balled up, ready to attack Crimea. "I'm all about pummeling you to the ground."

"Good luck with that," Crimea patted his hair before putting his hands up in a defensive guard, "we've been preparing this war for decades, there's no way you can stop us."

Pskov gave him a dirty look. "Why did you join them? What do you have against Russia, you joined him willingly after all!"

Crimea snorted. "He hurt Ukraine, my _real _country. I only joined to act as a double agent, so I never held any love for him."

"You're not going to live to see your plans fail," Pskov threw his fist at Crimea's face, but the Ukrainian caught it and punched him instead. He staggered back, hitting his head against another oblast who was just trying to run away. He yelped but was back on his feet, just barely dodging Crimea's attack.

The two men slugged it out, punching out teeth, bruising and bloodying each other. They tripped over oblasts and dodged gunfire, only stopping when both of them were badly mauled by one another.

"You know…" Crimea wiped blood off of his face, "I didn't think you were that capable."

Pskov was trembling all over, but he stood firm. "Yeah, you too…"

"You know, we can use people like you. You don't need to die here, why don't you join us?" Crimea offered.

Pskov smirked. "To hell with you."

"That's unfortunate," Crimea struck him in the neck. Pskov's eyes rolled backward, crumpling onto the stairs.

* * *

Chuvashia had a pile of bodies around him, wiping his knife. He had killed Oryol and Penza oblast permanently, and was now back in his seat, relaxing while the battle raged around him.

"Hey you!" He turned to see the angry face of Saratov glaring down at him.

"Oh hey Sara," Chuvashia waved.

Saratov's eyes narrowed with hate. "Don't be all friendly with me! You just murdered our friends!"

"_Your_ friends," Chuvashia corrected, "I didn't really care for them."

"You're heartless," Saratov said.

Chuvashia shrugged. "Maybe. Just blame Russia, if he wasn't such a horrible dude I wouldn't have turned against him."

Saratov attacked, and surprisingly was much stronger than Chuvashia anticipated. Maybe it was the high ground, but in any case he was being overwhelmed.

"You were being a little optimistic, weren't you?" Saratov taunted.

Chuvashia didn't answer. He tried to find an opening in Saratov's defenses, but the oblast was experienced in hand-to-hand combat and was not about to let up on the republic.

He unwittingly let out a squeal when Saratov managed to land a hit into his solar plexus. He tumbled down the aisles, the chairs hitting him in weird places. He landed in the second row, groaning and getting onto his knees.

Saratov kicked him in the back of the head, pushing him to the floor. He felt his nose break, blood squirting out. He rolled over and saw Saratov with the most satisfied expression on his face.

"I know this is only temporary, but I'm going to enjoy killing you," Saratov muttered.

"I could say the same thing!" A pair of hands shot out from behind Saratov, grabbing her neck and violently twisting it. Saratov let out a gurgle before falling to the floor, with Komi standing in his place.

He pulled Chuvashia up. "She was kicking your butt hard man," He chuckled.

Chuvashia sighed. "Yeah, he was stronger than I thought," He looked down at Saratov's body, "Should we get rid of her permanently?"

Komi looked around him. Even though their allies and human soldiers were putting up a good fight, it was obvious they were slowly being pushed back. He saw Altai Krai's body within the pile of casualties and felt his stomach lurch. Even in a complete surprise attack they had encountered heavier resistance than anticipated. Perhaps it was time to retreat, while they still had time…

* * *

Tatarstan laughed at Russia and Moscow's horrified expressions. "You don't even know how easy it was to infiltrate your military! You were so careless Russia, I almost feel bad for you," And with that she hurled herself towards Russia.

Russia was caught off guard as her boot made contact with his face. He flew back, crashing into the wall behind him. "God…." He groaned and stood back up, before finding a fist landing into his gut.

"Is that all you've got? I thought you were supposed to be strong," Tatarstan taunted, pulling Russia up by the collar. Her left arm went into her pocket pulling out what seemed to be a hilt, the slightly curved blade extending out of it.

Tatarstan raised the Shashka and was about to cut him down when Russia struck his knee out, hitting her in the stomach. She stumbled back, but wasn't too fazed by the attack. She rushed him again, holding her shashka close to her.

Russia winced, knowing the battle raging outside the Kremlin. The military and police forces loyal to him were fighting the traitorous troops and militias, destroying the ancient city and killing scores of innocents. The cracking of assault rifles echoed clearly in his ears, the putrid smell of burning bodies overwhelmed his nostrils. His capital was being driven to the ground, and there was little he could do about it.

He braced himself as Tatarstan charged him, swinging her sword down. He sidestepped her, striking her in the side. He thought he had dodged her attack, but then felt the sting of steel slashing down his back, drawing blood.

"You fool…" He grimaced and grabbed Tatarstan, throwing her over his shoulder and slamming her on the ground. He raised his leg to stomp her, but she was quick to roll away and was back up, a little but roughed up but still smirking.

"You got a few hits in, but don't act so high and mighty about it," Tatarstan spat out blood, whirling her blade in quick fashion, taking a step forward.

Russia stood his ground, though he was severely weakened. "You too. You're just lucky," He coughed, taking a defensive stance. He cringed seeing her blade was almost completely red, his back was for all intents and purposes on fire. It only added fuel to the fire of everything he was feeling.

"That and years of preparing for this moment," Tatarstan clarified. She pointed the tip of the blade at his nose. "You're going to regret ever hurting my people." She growled.

"Believe me, that was never my intention," Russia replied.

"Lies," Tatarstan attacked again, jumping towards the Russian. She swung her shashka, aiming clearly for his head.

Russia stepped aside once again, throwing his arms up to protect his face. But instead of attacking with her sword, Tatarstan swiveled her hips and landed a kick straight to his throat.

Russia let out a loud gag and fell to the floor, his hands covering his throat. Tatarstan took the opportunity to kick him while he was down.

He felt each kick hit deep with a loud _thud_. He wasn't out of the fight yet, not by a long shot. He rolled back up, catching her leg and pulling her down to his level.

There was a _click_, and both looked up to see Tambov holding a rifle. He raised it to his shoulder, pointing it towards Tatarstan.

Russia immediately knew the gun was a nation killer. "Pull the trigger!" He shouted. Tambov stared down at him, while Tatarstan panted, her head in front of the barrel. She turned back to look at the oblast before returning her gaze to Russia, that treacherous grin back on her face.

She ducked her head as Tambov made his shot. Russia had reacted with just enough time to avoid getting shot in the face, getting only a chunk of his shoulder ripped out.

"Tambov what the hell?" Russia demanded, his hand now covering his bloody shoulder, "Are you a traitor as well?"

"Tsch, I missed," Tambov pulled back the bolt of his rifle, ejecting the cartridge, "Sorry, but you're not my boss anymore." He was about to take another shot when he was tackled to the ground by Moscow.

"Get off of me!" Tambov screamed, but Moscow wrested the rifle from his hands and pressed it against his throat. He struggled, thrashing and gasping for air. But Moscow pushed hard until the oblast stopped breathing.

"Tambov!" Tatarstan screamed. She knew it was only a temporary death, but still it was a loss, a blow for this operation.

Russia was now back up, picking up Tatarstan by the throat. "Is this what you wanted, hm?" He asked menacingly. Her legs kicked but he stood firm, "Congratulations, several of my subjects are dead or wounded. ARE YOU HAPPY?"

Tatarstan whimpered out a little "Yes," as the side of the Kremlin Palace exploded, sending large chunks of the wall throughout the hallway. Russia was thrown off of his feet, and for a second blinded by the cloud of debris that engulfed him.

"Ivan!" Russia heard Moscow's voice, and he felt her hand grasp his arm, hauling him up to his feet, "What just happened?"

"I don't know," Russia said, "Where is Tatar and the others?"

* * *

Tatarstan felt herself roll across the floor, dazed by the explosion. However, she was free from Russia's grasp and took the opportunity to scan the room. The floor was littered with bodies, some dead, many gravely injured. Her allies were still standing for the most part, minus Altai Krai. She couldn't see him at all, and she feared for the worst.

She found Tambov and slung him over her back. "Come on, we're leaving!" She commanded her subordinates. They all ran through the large hole, where a truck with a rocket launcher was waiting for them. After shoving Tambov into the back they all piled in, with Tatarstan sitting at the front. "Alright, let's leave this joint!"

The truck drove out of the Kremlin, which was still the center of the battle. The ancient towers and walls were being targeted by Armageddon tanks and troops armed with RPGs. The streets were alive with the buzzing of assault rifles and screams of wounded people, and the truck had to swerve several times to avoid Russian rockets.

"Thank god you came when you did," Tatarstan laughed, her entire body relaxing in her seat.

JAO grinned. "Don't worry about it, Tatar. I'm glad to be finally of some use for the Armageddon," He looked backward, counting the people in the back. He noticed there was one person short. "Where's Altai Krai?" He asked.

Tatarstan's smile disappeared. "Dead. He was killed by his nation-killer gun," She sighed, "Yeah, we've suffered a good bit as well."

JAO nodded. "Altai was a good man. We'll avenge him," He whispered. Everyone in the truck went silent, a moment of prayer for their fallen comrade.

JAO drove through the checkpoints Armageddon troops have set up and left Moscow, leaving the battle to be run by humans. The personifications had other, more important work to do.

* * *

Russia was on the ground of the hall, nursing his wounds. All around him were wounded subjects, bandaged up and moaning in pain. There were also numerous dead, unfortunately out of the eleven, seven of them were permanently killed.

He bit his lip, feeling his power diminish even more. He had failed. This was supposed to be the trap to capture Tatarstan but it had backfired. Tears rolled down his cheeks, he didn't have the energy to wipe them away.

He looked to his right, where Moscow was lying. She was in the worst shape out of all of them, as she was even now feeling the intense battle in the city. But despite that she was engrossed with reports and military details. Russia was thankful that he had such a reliable right hand woman.

There wasn't any gunfire in the palace anymore. The enemy troops had fallen back from the palace, though they remained in the compounds of the Kremlin for now. That was a little but reassuring, but that didn't mean the fight was in their favor. He felt that somehow it was even the contrary, that his military was caught so off guard that they were just barely holding things together.

He also found himself looking at the body of Altai Krai and could only feel pity for his former subject. He had been killed by his own weapon, an unfortunate death for anybody. Russia didn't know why he would join this rebellion, had he done anything to anger the Krai so much? He had no idea, and that was troubling. Who knows how many had betrayed him, and who on the outside was plotting his demise. Whatever the matter, he had to warn the world. If this could happen to him, it could happen to anybody.

* * *

**Man, I apologize for not posting for so long! This chapter is much longer than I'd thought it would be, and it was kind of hard to write out the battle in the State Kremlin Palace. I had the general idea, but it took a while to figure out how exactly it was going to play out. But yeah, the Russian Civil War has finally begun. The Next chapter will focus on the international reaction to this development, as well as the expansion of Armageddon plans. **

**Also Hungary! Was that unexpected or what? I suppose many of you may know another one of the leaders, but I won't confirm nor deny until their official reveal. **

**What was formerly known as Prussia(or East Prussia ever since the formation of Germany) is now the Kaliningrad oblast, making it a Russian territory actually separate from Russia proper, sandwiched between Poland and Lithuania. And the city of Kaliningrad is also what was formerly the city of Konigsberg, the capital of East Prussia. **

**I think it makes complete sense that he's related to Kaliningrad, she did replace East Prussia after all. She is one of what I call the "Soviet Children"; i.e. nations/entities that were born out of Soviet/Russian occupation and influence and exist today, most of them unrecognized by the majority of the world. **

**I love Prussia being a single dad to Kaliningrad. I can just imagine him just holding her in his arms while being forced to work as the personification of the GDR, her being his only happiness for 40 some odd years. It's sweet, it makes him awesome and it's wholesome and nobody can change my mind about it. **

**Konigsberger Klopse-also known as ****German Meatballs in Creamy Caper Sauce in English-yikes what a long name, is meatballs with white sauce with capers, named after the aforementioned Konigsberg. During the time of the GDR(East Germany) it was renamed Kocklopse(boiled meatballs-a much more boring name in my opinion) to avoid the reference to Prussia. It sounds good like a lot of other German cuisines, maybe one day I'll have the chance to enjoy this meatball speciality. **

**The Chilean army has an interesting relationship with Prussia/Germany. Because Chile took inspiration from the Prussian Army, on parades and on marches they would be in Prussian-like uniforms, all the way down to the pickelhaubes(those WW1 German helmets with the pointy tops). There's a lot of Germans in Chile(as well as a lot of other South American countries), so he's pretty close with the German twins. **

**Oh yeah, I forgot to mention this earlier but all of my oc characters are named after famous people from that region(except for North Korea, she's a special exception). Kaliningrad is named after Tatyana Arngolts, a Russian film and theater actress. I like to think of it as some sort of Easter egg, so if you find the name of an oc, look it up, you might just find something. **


	10. Pulling Back the Veil

**Thank you Yours the Author, Vexey1999 and Patient Harmony for reviewing! Whoah, the author that inspired me to write this read my story! I'm actually very happy, it gives me satisfaction that my peers like what I do! I hope to become an author or writer of some kind so this really does encourage me! Not like everybody else that has reviewed or followed haven't. Every single one of you who followed and favorited this story, thank you, I really do appreciate every single one of you who support my work! Anyways, I think y'all have been waiting long enough, so on with the show! **

* * *

The battle in Moscow sent shock waves throughout the world. It was the centerpiece of international news and social media, with everybody adding in their own two cents. It's been only a little more than a week since the initial Red Square attack, and already the entire Russian Federation is collapsing into violent unrest with hundreds of thousands of dead and wounded all across the country. In Moscow alone the city is being torn apart in a battle unseen since the Second Chechen War.

That was the dominant news, even in the US. And America was on his couch, looking at his tv with morbid curiosity. There wasn't much to see, just a city covered in fire and smoke. But he knew underneath that was a raging battle. The crackling of gunfire only proved that. He thought his country was in bad shape, but this was just depressing.

"Poor Russia…" Bian muttered, sitting next to America, "He may be cruel and heartless, but not even he deserves something like this."

America sighed and put his head on her lap, letting her pet his hair. "He got attacked by terrorists-his own regions!" He strained, trying to remember what he had been told about Russia, "This shouldn't be allowed to happen. Whether we like him or not, we've got to help out Ivan."

Bian smiled some, running her hands across his hair and shoulder. "He's treated his own subjects pretty badly hasn't he? What if they're just fed up with his rule?"

"That might be true, but that doesn't absolve what they're doing," America scrunched up his face, "Trust me, having your own family fight you like that is the worst. You know I've gone through that, and I know you have as well."

Bian nodded. That was completely true. When she was a nation many of her own people had fought against her, supporting her sister instead. She had only been able to sustain herself via assistance from America, and even that wasn't enough in the end and was forced to escape. And now she was here with America, the head of a government in exile and the representative of her people's culture in the West. She didn't really care about actually going to her homeland; America was her new home, and he was the perfect man to take care of.

"At least we have each other," She squished his cheeks together, giggling at his displeasure, "Don't look at me like that Alfie! We've both gone through it before. We'll make sure that it doesn't happen again."

"But my states are disappearing!" America groaned, "And I'm getting feelings of deja vu from the Civil War. I haven't heard from DC in days…"

"He's always busy, I'm sure he's doing his best," Bian cooed, "you know he's reliable."

"I know. He's the best man to run my internal affairs. He can work miracles."

"See? There we go!" Bian giggled, wrapping her arms around America, "We can just leave it to him."

America snuggled up against his Asian girlfriend, letting her perfumes calm his senses. "I guess. I still have a feeling something is going on in my country, and I don't know exactly what," He pulled his head off of Bian's lap. He was too bothered and worried about it to just relax.

He got up from the couch, but it was then when his vision grew foggy and began losing focus. "Ow, ow, ow, OW!" He cried out as though his entire head was being electrocuted, crouching on the ground and pressing against his forehead.

"What happened?" Bian was on the floor with him, holding his hand and head, "Was it your states?"

"Yeah…." America said groggily.

However strangely the feeling was gone as quickly as it came, as the weight on his head faded away and his vision returned to normal. It was so sudden that America didn't have time to grasp what had happened. If one of them went missing it he would still get a feeling, but it was as if nothing had happened at all.

He stood up, Bian letting out a small gasp as he did so. He knew something had just happened, but what, and to _who_?

* * *

DC's office was in chaos. There were mountains of papers on his desk, the radios and screens continuously blaring out news while aides ran around, carrying folders and pots of coffee. DC himself was answering calls, signing off on documents and screaming in frustration.

Despite looking like an average Secret Service agent he was the one running the show while America was away or taking a break, which was most of the time these days. He was the one that had to deal with all the politicians and government officials, which grinded him to no end. They were the most annoying and manipulative people on this planet. America was a lucky man to have him, or else he wouldn't function politically as a nation.

DC was glad New York took the mantle of dealing with the economics of the country. He had too much on his plate already; dealing with stocks and trade was beyond his capabilities.

Sweat gleamed off of the rims of his sunglasses. He was feeling the pressure more than ever, as America had tasked him with finding Arizona and West Virginia. He had already assigned many of the states around those missing to go on a manhunt. Texas and Virginia, being the most protective of each one respectively, were the most active in these searches, but so far nothing was turning up.

He let out another frustrated grunt, taking off his sunglasses to wipe them. He had too much to do, and not enough time to do it. And there was the added feeling that something else was happening again.

He didn't want to deal with it, but knew he had a feeling it was urgent.

* * *

Utah stood on top of one of the many arches in Arches national park, watching the sunrise. Even though he did this every morning it was always a blissful experience every time. The way the darkness of the sky and the rays of the sun mixes in with the sandstone, it was the pinnacle of natural beauty.

He sighed, taking in the warm glow of the sun. This really was something only he got to experience on a daily basis, he felt a little bad for all the other states. Perhaps he should offer them a special, prolonged visit.

He pulled out his phone, intending to take a photo. He snapped one, before switching it to selfie view. He grinned at his own appearance, tan skinned and short brown hair, with sunglasses and a little stubble at his chin, he was essentially a more grownup version of Molossia.

Ah, Molossia. Utah pretty much viewed him as a son. He was proud of him for making new friends, though they are children it's at least a start for a loner like him!

That gave Utah a fabulous idea. This would be a great place for the micronations to have their meetings! It would be out of the way, and though it could get excruciatingly hot it was most definitely pleasing to the eye.

He was getting so giddy he nearly didn't see the person standing directly behind him. Utah froze in terror as his doppelganger lowered a metal bat over his head.

* * *

Japan stepped in front of a karate dojo, its sign having both Japanese and Ryukyuan letters on it. He couldn't help but admire the beauty of the arches on the roof, the tiles glistening against the glowing sunset. The lights were shining through the sliding paper doors, and they opened to reveal about a dozen or so pupils, most of them young in age conversing in Okinawan Japanese as they left for their homes.

He smiled and bowed as he brushed past them, stepping into the dojo. He caught sight of a lone woman in a dōgi picking up training equipment. "Rena," He called out.

The woman turned around. She had choppy black hair, her brown eyes widening in surprise when she saw who it was. "Honda-sai," Okinawa said, bowing respectfully, "What pleasure may I owe to get a visitor so late? Have you finally decided to learn the true ways of Shuri-te?" She grinned, hoping that a small dig at Japan had its effects.

It had. Japan smiled and bowed in return, holding back the irritation she was once again causing him. "I wanted to see how you were doing it all. Can't I visit my own prefectures?" He hoped that was a good enough retort for the woman.

She winced a little, perhaps still bitter over the loss of her independence. Japan took note of that but continued the show of respect. "Anyhow, I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"As you can see I'm doing completely fine," Okinawa said. She pulled on her black belt, beckoning Japan to step inside. "While you're here, would you like to spar for a while?"

"I would never refuse the opportunity," Japan accepted, putting his shoes on the rack by the door.

"I have spare dōgi if you want, it's in the changing room," Okinawa suggested.

Japan got changed into the karate uniform, stepping onto the bamboo floor. Okinawa was waiting for him, inspecting him and smirking. "Alright, show me what you've got."

"I'll do my best," Japan winked. Okinawa made a disgusted face in return.

The two bowed before transitioning into their fighting stances; Japan was planted firmly on the ground, his feet were spread wide and his body low. Okinawa on the other hand remained light footed, her heels just off the floor and her hands out in front of her.

They each had their eyes glued on the other, waiting for the other to make the first move. No breaths were drawn as the clock ticked on.

She was the one to attack first, pouncing forward and sending a forward punch towards his head. Japan narrowly avoided being hit, just barely managing to send a rising block against her fist before pulling it back and throwing his own punch aimed at her side

Okinawa bounced back, which only irritated Japan. He followed after her, sending a flurry of attacks but she dodged all of them with ease.

She aimed for his head with her forward hand, but he stepped his backfoot just far enough for him to dodge the blow. He glanced at her midsection, realizing it was open. He opted to strike there but she had realized and sent her front hand down to block his move.

That was his last mistake. Okinawa was quick to exploit the gap he had made, and before he could raise his hand to block her attack her fist had already reached his chest, lightly tapping his gi.

He looked at her, and her eyes sparkled with delight. She smirked in a way that invited him to a rematch, to which he nodded. The two stepped back from each other before sinking back into their fighting stances.

Japan examined Okinawa's stance and positioning of her hands. He knew that he couldn't just blindly attack this time; her hawkish eyes were watching him just as intensely as he was her.

He faked a backfist towards her head, to which she responded by tilting her head back. But she scowled when she realized his duplicitous move, and moved her body barely in time to avoid getting hit in the stomach by Japan.

The two stepped around each other as if they were entangled in an elaborate dance, seizing every opportunity they found to engage in short, indecisive engagements. Okinawa remained quick throughout, able to outmaneuver Japan at every turn.

He stopped, trying to get a grip on the situation. She was much nimbler then he was, and he was struggling to find any new opening in her defenses.

Okinawa creeped closer, making him tense up. She came a bit too close though, right in range for a front kick. He sent his front leg towards her face, and she jumped back. He followed, lunging forward and sending a rear hook to her head.

Okinawa expected this move, crouching down and thrusting her arm forward, her fist twisting towards his nose.

They stood there frozen, both staring at her fist not even an inch away from his face. Okinawa pulled her arm back, giving Japan an extremely gleeful look. Japan only sank back down into a fighting stance, eager for another round. Okinawa wryly smiled and put her hands up, ready to continue her winning streak.

* * *

The two sat on the tatami in Okinawa's living room, whose dojo was actually an extension of her home. They were both in their regular clothes, covered in sweat and kneeling in front of a tea table, where there was green tea for both of them.

"That was ten wins for me, zero for you," Okinawa wheezed, wiping her forehead with a handkerchief. She was all smiles, relishing in her victory over Japan. "You still have much to learn as a student."

Japan shook his head. "I'm just getting old," He replied, his hand rubbing his hip, "I need to exercise like this more anyways. Besides, we're both masters of different crafts."

Okinawa snorted. "You're all show and no practicality. Your moves are slow and too wide. Also your stances are too low, it makes you immobile and unable to react," She told him.

Japan sighed, taking a sip of his green tea. He supposed she was right, but that was how he practiced karate. There wasn't anything wrong with sticking to his style, is there? "Thank you for the advice," He said.

The two sat in silence for a long time, just drinking tea.

"So," Okinawa said after a while, "I'm guessing sparring wasn't the only reason you decided to give me a visit."

Japan nodded. "Indeed. If you've seen the news today…"

Okinawa groaned. "I don't really care about what's happening in Russia. That's something he has to deal with."

"He won't be the only one," Japan said, putting his cup on the table. He looked up at Okinawa, and she saw there was something about him that was different than before. Was it confidence...or something else? "China, America...they will also collapse on themselves."

Okinawa stared incredulously at him. "What are you talking about?" She demanded.

"Let's just say I had a hand in causing Russia to implode," Japan smirked, "And China and America are soon to follow."

Okinawa felt her jaw drop. "YOU planned out the terrorist attack?"

"I wouldn't call it that, it's more of a revolution," Japan replied, "but yeah, I've been planning out a lot these past decades. It's very important to plan out every detail in the event of a world war."

"World….war…" Okinawa swallowed those words, her mind filling up with the memories of the battle that took place on her island 75 years ago. Her hand shakily put her cup down, giving Japan a look of pure confusion. "But you renounced war! You, all of us swore never to never take up arms, if only to defend ourselves."

"I am defending myself from their encroaching influences. They really believed that they had beaten me to submission, but they're wrong," Japan said cooly, his eyes narrowing at her, "They have been taking advantage of us for far too long. I am only doing this to free this world from their corrupt hands."

"Us?"

"I am merely one of the leaders of an organization called the _Armageddon_, my dear Rina. We have been operating in secret since the end of the last world war, recruiting nations and regions that have been abused and neglected, giving them a new sense of purpose in this world of pain and misery."

Okinawa gulped the last of her tea down, trying to process what he was saying. "How? Why are you doing this?"

Japan chuckled. "It's been 70 years, that's plenty of time to recruit nations and prepare for a new conflict."

"But you aren't as powerful as America…"

"That's where you're wrong," Japan snapped, surprising Okinawa. He was always calm and reserved, ever since the Second World War…

"You've been playing us this whole time," Okinawa breathed out.

Japan's eyes gleamed. "You finally realized. The world only knows a fraction of my true strength, the JSDF is merely a front to my actual military. If anything, I am nearly on par with the American bastard."

"Dear lord, You don't plan on fighting head on, are you?" Okinawa whispered, her body sinking to the floor, "There's still American troops on my island! I don't want to become a battlefield again," She pulled her shirt up, revealing the faint scars on her stomach and ribs.

Japan smiled sympathetically, putting a hand on her sagging shoulder. "I won't let it happen. If they're still there after America suffers _his _civil war, I'll take out that base in one swift strike. Those foreign barbarians won't ever hurt your people again, I promise you that."

Okinawa slowly nodded, not minding too much that he was touching her. "And what do I have to do in return? Do I have to fight with you?" She shakily asked.

Japan shook his head. "No, you don't have to do anything at all. Just do what you normally do. Just sit tight and let me take care of things. We'll take care of this quickly, and you'll be more free than you ever were before."

Okinawa sighed. "Okay, just make it quick and clean, okay? Please don't slip back into your war state..."

Japan gave her a sweet smile, almost convincing her that he was still a mild mannered man and not the bloodthirsty persona he had hidden for so long. "Don't worry about it. I'll just be giving them what they deserve," he reassured.

Okinawa turned her face away from him. What was this she was feeling? Discomfort? Fear? She knew he still bore scars of the war as well, so for him to want to fight again, it unsettled her. The fact that he was waiting for this moment for so long didn't sit well at all.

Japan stood up from the table. "I'm sorry for taking so much of your time, Rena. It was good exercise I must admit, we should do this more often."

"It's late, you can stay for the night," Okinawa reluctantly offered, still trying to be respectful.

"No no, I'm a busy man after all, there are things I have to do," Japan bowed and left her home, walking out into the moonlit street.

Once he saw that he was alone, he began to laugh silently to himself. She was still naive after all this time. Well, he couldn't blame her. He was the one that kept his intentions from her, afraid she might become unruly had she known he was preparing for another war. Tokyo and the other prefectures were always with him, ready to get revenge on America for what he did. But Okinawa was different, she could have blabbed to America, and of course Japan couldn't have that.

He shook his head at the thought. In a way he felt bad for her. She still clung on to the vestiges of this world order, hoping for a peaceful solution. That was never an option. He was always intent on bloody war. That was always his way, to brutally conquer and destroy his enemies. He only failed last time. This time though, he'll be victorious.

She had asked him not to slip back into his old persona, his war state. Unfortunately for her, it was far too late for that. He could already feel his muscles strengthening, adrenalin flowing through his veins. His industries were pumping out weapons of war, his economy preparing for a total war. He was already in his war state, and he wouldn't leave it until the corpse of America was on his doorstep.

He pulled out his phone to check the time and saw that his eyes were slowly turning red.

He smirked. She may have won the physical duel, but it was he who stood victorious from that verbal exchange.

* * *

Poland was still in bed, his face stuffed into the pillow. He heard Ukraine next to him get up from the bed, the sound of her huge breasts bouncing making him grin. Though they've been together for some time now, they never failed to amuse him.

"Feliks wake up," He felt her chest push against the back of his head and had to stop himself from bursting with laughter. He closed his eyes and tried to hide his front from her.

"I know you're awake!" The pillow was pulled from underneath his head, and his face rolled over to see her looming over him, a large portion of her face blocked by her chest. He really wanted to squeeze them, but that would probably result in him getting slapped.

"Morning Katyusha," Poland purred. Ukraine rolled her eyes, and for a second he thought she was gonna do something.

But she only smiled down at him, her face a slight shade of red. "Good morning, Feliks," She bent down and kissed him, which was more than okay with him. She yawned and stretched, grabbing her clothes. "We need to get ready soon, remember we're going to Toris and Natalya's place today."

He was busy thinking about how Ukraine's back was able to support such a large weight on her, but it was rude to ask, and some things were simply to remain a secret after all, but her voice snapped him out of his trance. "Huh? Are we?" He asked.

"Yes! We're going to have a meeting of all the Eastern European countries, remember?" Ukraine huffed, throwing Poland's clothes for the day at his chest.

He caught it, groaning and reluctantly crawling out of bed to reveal he was wearing only a pair of wojtek patterned boxers. Ukraine's cheeks puffed out at the sight of them. Poland's cute sense of fashion was only one of the reasons why she was with him, though his even more adorable face was what really got her.

"Yeah, I remember now," Poland wiped his eyes and sluggishly pulled a checkered flannel shirt over himself. He walked over to Ukraine and nuzzled her neck. "Though I think our main reason is to make Lit and Bel jealous of us."

That made Ukraine laugh. "Do you really want to piss off my sister?" She joked, kissing his cheek, "You know how she is."

"Oh please. I spent most of my time fighting you. I never really paid her any attention," Poland had a wide grin on his face, delightful from being coddled so much.

"I remember those times. You were such a bully," Ukraine cooed.

Poland sniggered. "You too. Looks were deceiving back then, you were such a demon despite looking like an angel!" His eyes fluttered up and down her body, "Though they still are."

"What does that mean?" Ukraine pouted, sticking her tongue out at him.

"It means that nobody will expect what's going to happen!" Poland laughed, pushing his leg through the pant leg, "You look too much like an innocent angel."

"Stop it!" Ukraine blushed, playfully pushing herself off of him. She picked up a yellow skirt, pondering if she should wear it. "You're such a flirt."

Poland smirked. "I can't help it! I love your deceptive looks," He slinked up to her, "I know you're pent up from Russia and his influences in your country. It's going to be so hot when you capture those bastards."

Ukraine's smile went from sweet to evil in a matter of seconds. "Oh, I can't wait to kill those damned rebel _republics_," She spat out the last word with such vitriol and hatred that Poland felt a shiver crawl down his spine.

"I _love _that," Poland whispered into her ear, "That is so hot."

Ukraine laughed and pushed him onto the bed. "Thanks. Just the thought of you getting revenge on Germany and Russia is hot as well," She growled. She cuddled up to him, kissing him. There was still abundant time until they had to leave for Belarus, so having alone time with her lover was the best thing they could do to make time pass.

* * *

Russia hobbled out of the makeshift hospital in the ruins of the State Kremlin Palace, watching the dead be lined up for burial. In all seven subjects were murdered in cold blood, with four more in a temporary state of death.

He knew that this betrayal was coming, but the deaths of so many of his family was of course hard to swallow. He had to fight back tears as he watched the bodies be put into a truck. Unfortunately there wasn't any good place to bury them here, and with the battle still raging outside, they were going to stay in storage until they could get out of here.

But for now they were under siege, surrounded by insurgent soldiers. Explosions rocked the Kremlin walls, destroying the ancient barricades. Russia looked on with horror and grief as he watched his cultural icons be destroyed in front of his eyes.

He slunk back into the building, just avoiding a barrage of rockets slamming into Ivanovskaya Square. Inside soldiers and doctors rushed around the building, carrying crates of ammo or medicine throughout the Kremlin.

The Kremlin had now become the lynchpin of the Russian defense in Moscow, if there really was one in the first place. Russia didn't really know the situation at the moment, but that was because his head was still too jumbled up from the attack.

Moscow was sitting outside the auditorium, strapped into a wheelchair. She saw Russia and waved, wincing in pain when she raised his arm.

Russia ran over to her. "Moscow! Are you okay?"

Moscow gave him a rather cheeky grin, though it turned into a grimace. "No, not at all. In fact I've never felt so much pain, it's like dousing my body in gasoline and being set on fire while being ripped apart by a pack of Siberian wolves. So yeah, it's pretty bad," She forced out a laugh and put her hand on his arm, "You doing alright? Losing so many subjects at once must be terrible."

"Yeah," Russia nodded, trying to hold back tears, "It doesn't even hurt anymore, it's just numb."

Moscow dropped her smile, grunting and holding her hand against her side. "I'm sorry Ivan…" She looked up and saw the tears dropping down his face and wilted as well. She pushed through the agonizing pain to wipe his tears. "Don't cry, it's going to be okay…"

"No, it's not!" Russia shouted, his fists tightening, "I let so many of my subjects and people be killed. Most of the republics are trying to kill me. Everything is falling apart…"

"You can't blame yourself for what they did," Moscow said.

"I wasn't careful enough! I let them come in and spring their trap. I should have been more careful," Russia whispered. His crying turned to angry seething, his eyes turning dark red. "I won't let them get away anymore. They're going to pay for what they've done."

Moscow stared at him, now more worried than anything else. She knew that he was slipping into his violent side, and that meant this conflict was only going to get worse.

* * *

Chechnya sat alone in the national library in Grozny, looking wistfully at books about all the tragedies her people had faced throughout history. Deportations and genocide under Soviet rule and two invasions in the last two decades have taken a heavy toll on her. Tears formed at the edge of her eyes just looking at the pictures inside. She could never advance beyond the first few pages and had to put them back into the shelf, it was too painful to relive such memories.

She sighed, staring out the window. Today was supposed to be a good day, a day of celebration. All of the Russians living inside her country were either dead or had fled the region, and all Russian power had been destroyed, replaced by the laws of her people. This was a monumental achievement for her, finally throwing off her oppressor's chains. The battle of Moscow was also a plus, as it had shaken Russian power to the core and at the least hurting _him_ much more badly.

But many of her own people had died in the battles as well. Sure, it was much less than Russia but it was still a significant hit. She could feel them dying, and it was not a good feeling to say the least.

"Hadijat," Ingushetia's echoing voice pulled her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see her brother walking down the library.

"Murad," She called out, putting a book on the Ardakh genocide on the table.

"What are you doing here…" Ingushetia looked visibly disturbed when he saw the book, "We should be out celebrating our victory, not wallowing in our past."

Chechnya's mouth drooped, and he sensed that something was wrong. "Sister, what's wrong?" He asked, bending down to her level.

Chechnya sighed. "I don't know, I guess I still don't like it that my people are dying," She said, "I knew they would, but it still isn't the best feeling you know?"

Ingushetia nodded. "I understand what you mean. A few of my people died fighting the Russians, and while it's sad it's also the greatest sacrifice they've made to keep their country free," Chechnya perked up, and he continued, "They willingly died so that the rest of our people could live in peace and prosperity."

Chechnya looked at him. Of course, that was the truth. They willingly fought and died. She shouldn't be crying over them. Instead she should be proud and enshrine them as martyrs.

But even still, she was missing something. "I miss her, Murad," she whispered.

"Tatarstan?" Ingushetia asked.

Chechnya nodded. "She's still in Moscow. I hope she's alright…"

"Have you felt anything?"

"I think she was hurt, I hope it wasn't too bad…"

Ingushetia smiled and patted her head. "She's a strong girl, she's going to be fine," He reassured.

Chechnya cracked a smile. "Yeah, she's tough," She said. Tatarstan was a strong and wild girl, she knew that from personal experience.

"Come on, let's go," Ingushetia pulled her up from the chair, leading her outside, "Let's just not think about the Armageddon or the past for a little bit, eh? Let's just hang out, it'll be just like the old times when we were just kids."

"Yeah!" Chechnya's face brightened up at the idea. It was far too long since the two of them spent anytime together. Maybe it was okay to just forget about everything and just relax. Besides, she wanted to doll herself up for when Tatarstan comes back from Moscow, though when that would be was anybody's guess.

* * *

Tatarstan was sitting on top of a burned out truck, watching helicopters strafe the city from above. The smoke from the battle rose into a great black cloud over Moscow, giving the city a gray, somber feel to it.

She had faced off Russia. It was what she wanted for so long, yet it was an indecisive fight. Sure, she had dealt a good amount of damage to him, but he still stood. It didn't satisfy her, in a way it was an anticlimactic fight.

She wondered what Chechnya was doing right now. She missed her lover, especially now that she was in an unexpectedly stressful situation. She needed the comfort of someone she trusted.

Of course that didn't mean she didn't trust the others. She did with her life. But they were nothing compared to Chechnya. She was the star of her life. If something happened to her, Tatarstan wouldn't know what she would do. She would snap.

She jumped off when she saw the others approaching. They were just as tired as her, and no wonder. They've gone through a lot in the past few days, the one thing they all needed was a few days of rest. But of course they weren't going to get one for a pretty long time.

"Tatar!" Komi said, "We're going to hold a funeral for Altai Krai."

"Right," Tatarstan nodded, joining the rest of the group. They weren't able to retrieve Altai's body, which only added to their ordeal. They were only able to gather together and light a few candles, closing their eyes in a moment of silence.

"He's a martyr," Tatarstan muttered.

JAO opened an eye. "His death will be avenged."

Tatarstan nodded. Although he had died much too early, he would not die in vain. When they win this war, Altai and every other nation that sacrificed themselves for the cause will be remembered. That was a promise.

* * *

Romano huffed at the sight of the state the mansion he and Italy shared was in. This was their main residence, though each of them had a capital in their spheres of control, Milan and Naples respectively. But it was in Rome where they mainly stayed.

Italy had been gone for some time now, leaving Romano alone in the mansion. And because of that, the place had become dirty.

Romano wished they had kept the maids. They originally had them, but after a while it was clear that keeping them was only going to cause some problems. Country and human relationships were always something to be wary of.

Anyhow, Romano had to deal with this mess alone. He wasn't one to clean, but at this point even he was disgusted by the filth. Picking up a duster and a cleaning rag, he went to work.

* * *

Several hours had passed, and he had managed to clean most of the mansion. Now all that was left was Italy's room.

Romano was a bit hesitant to go into his brother's room without permission. It was a breach of privacy, and Italy might get mad at him, and that was the last thing he wanted.

But Italy cleaned out his room all the time, Romano thought, and in a way it was a way to repay him. Italy should be happy that Romano took the time to clean his room!

He walked upstairs, stopping at Italy's room. The door was closed, but the moment his hand reached out to turn the knob he was overwhelmed by a sense of fear. He stopped, trying to shake off the feelings of doubt and paranoia creeping across his body. There was something evil inside, and everything in him screamed to turn back. But for some reason he ignored the warnings, grasping the knob and yanking the door open.

The room looked completely normal. There was Italy's bed, his desk and his bookshelf. It was also clean, there wasn't a speck of dust in the room.

What piqued Romano's interest however was the laptop sitting on the desk. Something about it was off, and he couldn't take his eyes off of it. As he stepped nearer to it the warnings in his brain wailed louder, but he pushed on anyways. There was something with this laptop, and he was damned if he wasn't going to find out!

He opened the laptop, making a disgusted face when he saw the screensaver was a photo from the fascist era. Italy was still stuck on such a terrible time, and Romano could spill out a string of curses to state his frustration.

Fortunately the password was easy to figure out-it was simply "Rome"-too easy in fact. Romano began searching through his files, trying to find anything incriminating.

He found more pictures of Italy in Imperial regalia, infuriating him even more. How could he be proud of that time period? Did he miss the Blackshirt squads? Or was it just a power fantasy he kept? Romano didn't know, and quite frankly he was too disturbed to find out.

He pushed through and found other photos, this time of women and female countries. Less creepy, he noted. Most of them were regular photos, taken in public places. But plenty were also more...intimate. Romano realized that most of these were of former Italian colonies. Now that was truly disturbing.

He eventually found something more interesting. It was a file, and a large one at that. Intrigued, he clicked on it. And what came up nearly made his heart stop.

It was several hundred pages of laying out a conspiracy of some kind. He read with horror the planning of uprisings and causing civil wars in many countries across the world. He saw that among them was the attack on Red Square and the Battle of Moscow. It was put in plain writing that this organization was planning a third world war, and the slow realization that his brother might be something other than his cheery self was slowly dawning on Romano.

What made him even more horrified was the list of regions and countries part of this conspiracy. Hundreds of them, many of them a part of nations that were on the hit list. He looked through the names, realizing just how large this operation was. He felt like throwing up when he saw some of the names. He was friends with many of these countries! He couldn't believe they were planning a world war, it was impossible!

And then he saw the names of the leaders. No, it couldn't be. Not them, it can't be! Hungary and Japan? How could they? And the first leader, it possibly can't be-

"What'cha looking at there, big bro?" Romano froze, slowly turning his face around to see Italy standing there, his blood red eyes glaring down at the South Italian. Italy smirked. "It's rude to be looking through people's private stuff, ya know."

* * *

**Hey, it's been a while! Sorry, I've been a bit busy and had a bit of writer's block, as well as working on another story I'm writing. I guess my upload schedule is 1-2 chapters per month, which isn't too bad I think. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! It's a bit more laid back, but the reveals are just spicy I gotta say so myself. **

**Fun fact; even though Okinawa is a prefecture of Japan, it used to be an independent kingdom centuries ago, called the Ryukyu Kingdom. They have their own culture and language, Ryukyuan, though unfortunately is being slowly replaced by Japanese and Okinawan Japanese. It became a part of Japan after it was invaded by Samurai in 1609 and became an official prefecture in 1879. **

**There's also a misconception that Karate came from Japan. Karate actually came from Okinawa, when the peasants developed it to defend themselves from the samurai, who banned weapons on the island. It wasn't until the late 19th and early 20th century that karate became popularized, with karate master Gichin Funakoshi travelling to Japan to introduce it to the Japanese public. Because of this, karate became a sport for the masses, and such was changed fundamentally. Because of this Japanese karate has deeper stances and wide, sweeping moves while Okinawan karate remains light and swift, used more practically as defense from attacks. There are many more differences, but that's the main gist of it really. Why am I so adamant about this? Because I used to do karate, and since I was going to put in Japan and Okinawa it was the perfect chance to put in a little bit of Karate as well. **

**If you couldn't tell, there's some tension between Okinawa and Japan. This is based in reality; Okinawans feel neglected by the Japanese mainland, and some Japanese do look down on Okinawans in return. During the battle of Okinawa, the last and one of the bloodiest battles of World War II, the Okinawan population suffered horribly. Not only did they suffer bombings and attacks by American troops, but they were also practically brainwashed by the Japanese government that the Americans were devils and would murder them, so many of them willingly committed suicide. Not only this, but teens were forced into service, either as soldiers in the case of males or as nurses in the case of females. Adding to this, many civilians were forced out of hiding in tunnels by Japanese soldiers, exposing them to the battle. In all around half of the Okinawan population died from the battle. **

**Another thing is that America keeps a military base on Okinawa. This is a major cause of controversy and outrage, as time after time American marines rape and murder civilians and pretty much get away with their crimes. Even though the people continue to protest and demand that the base be dismantled, the Japanese government ignores them and the governor of Okinawa even made a secret deal to extend the lease of the base. This does piss me off, as this only shows that Japan as a whole is still subservient to America, but I'm not here to vent. This is why Okinawa doesn't put up a fight with Japan; she's glad that he'll take care of the criminals who get away far too much on her island. **

**A concept I thought up of while writing this chapter is the "War State". If you couldn't guess, this is the physical and mental state a country goes into when he is either in a conflict or prepares to start/join one. It's a combination of the country itself becoming more stronger to fight, but the economy as well. To put it in perspective a country that is in his war state will be much stronger than a country that is not. I'm going to go into more detail later in the story, as it is still sort of an interesting concept I have yet to explore. **

**I did make Chechnya and Ingushetia siblings. During the Soviet times there was the Chechen-Ingush Autonomous Republic, and they are a part of the Vainakh/Nakh peoples of the North Caucasus, close culturally, linguistically and geographically. **

**Anyways, I appreciate the support for the series, thank you very much! All reviews are helpful! Until next chapter, adios! **

**P.S. I now have additional information on my profile about this fanfic! From the members of each side to the casualties and battles, it's going to give a broader perspective to this global conflict. It's still WIP but I hope y'all look forward to the updates and figures!**

**P.P.S. If any of y'all are interested in Girls und Panzer, I also have an active fanfic of that called **_**Nightmare in Paradise**_**! If you like gritty, world war II action please check it out! **


	11. Revelations

**Thank you, Yours The Author and Vexey1999 for the reviews! And yes, after a long hiatus I am finally back!**

* * *

"H-hey Feli!" Romano shakily laughed at his younger brother, quickly exiting out of the document and closing the computer, "I was just uh...cleaning the mansion…"

"Really? Then why were you on _my _computer?"

"Because..uh…" Romano began to panic.

"Whatever it's fine," Italy said nonchalantly, "You know my plans, and I can't really change that can I?"

"Y-yeah!" Romano replied, "What the hell is up with that?"

Italy smirked, unsettling Romano. "I think it's self explanatory. I started this organization along with Japan and Hungary to prepare for a new world war. Is that so surprising?"

"Why? Why do all of this?" Romano demanded.

"Because I want to show the world that I'm not to be underestimated. I'm going to punish them for treating me the way they have for so long."

"What? Did Germany tell you you can't stay at his place for the weekend?" Romano couldn't help but make a sarcastic remark.

That was the wrong thing to say, as Italy's face turned red as a tomato. "Shut up! DON'T MENTION HIS NAME!" He snapped, and Romano closed his mouth, "I hate that bastard more than anyone else! I HATE HIM!"

"Him and everyone else called me a coward, weak and treacherous. They make jokes of me switching sides during war, making fun of my combat performance and laughing at me," Italy scowled, his anger bubbling over, "All my life I've been looked down on, made fun of and abused by everyone around me!" He shouted.

"Then I realized most of it was because of you," He sneered, "You're the cause of so much of my misery!"

"Don't blame me for your problems!" Romano stammered.

"You were the one that kept on backstabbing _me_! You're the source of everything wrong with me! The mafia, our civil war, everything! It's because we're split is why I've been so weak this entire time!"

"Hey, I have to deal with the jokes too, you know! You can't just dump everything onto me!" Romano replied, his voice rising. Now he was getting mad, his brother was being extremely irrational and insane. "I have to deal with being made fun of as well!"

"You're the one that did them in the first place!" Italy roared, causing a stupefied Romano to shut up.

Italy looked manic, his eyes fixated on his brother. He was hyperventilating, but eventually he calmed down, his frown turning into a sinister grin. "Take a look in the document, Romano. There's a list of nations that we plan to eliminate. Why don't you find out who we're going to kill?"

Romano gulped, opening the laptop back up. He slowly scrolled down the document, reaching the hit list. His eyes scanned the list, freezing when his name came up.

"Well well well," Italy grinned, "How about that?"

"You-you're crazy! Killing a country won't do any good, I'll just come back after some time passes! Wow, you're such an idiot!" Romano laughed, albeit nervously.

But Italy's own laughter cut him off. "Silly Romano, are you really that dense? You're not even an actual country anymore, just a region of _me_. You're _not needed _anymore."

Romano was stunned. He wasn't sure if that actually meant he could be killed, but Italy sounded convinced. Which gave him reason to be fearful for his life.

"Come on Feli, you're really not going to kill me, are you? We're brothers for god's sake!" He pleaded.

"I've been sick of you for a long time," Italy spat, drawing out a pistol and pointing it at Romano's head, "And when I'm done with you, I'm going to get rid of Sicily next."

Romano paled. "No. Please, not her! She's just a kid!" He begged.

"You and her control the mafia. You may not be a threat, but she very much is," Italy said, cocking the pistol, "I can't let her continue to run amok. She's a hindrance to my plans, and there's nothing stopping me from killing her now."

"NO!" Romano charged Italy, but the latter fired his pistol, hitting him in the chest. Romano stopped in his tracks, looking in horror at the blood seeping across his shirt. He fell to the ground, letting out his last gasps.

Italy kicked the dying South Italian for good measure, letting himself be the last thing Romano saw as he faded away. "Good riddance," He said, holstering his weapon.

Italy scowled. That was actually too close. He didn't think Romano would go into his room, let alone snoop around on his computer. So he didn't take enough precautions, and had he not arrived at the last minute it could have ended in complete disaster.

But Romano was taken care of. Pulling out his phone, it was time to deal with the others.

* * *

A young girl was leaning on a fence by the edge of the sea, watching the waves gently loll against the sandy beach. She was tanned, being underneath the sun so much while her long brown hair was let down completely.

She was smoking a cigarette when she felt it. It wasn't painful, but it was as if something had been severed from her mind, like a connection she had just simply faded away.

"Romano…" She muttered.

"Lady Sicily, is something wrong?" The burly man in a black suit next to her asked.

She didn't answer immediately, taking the time to finish her smoke. She flicked the finished cigarette into the sand. She looked at her underboss, her eyes filled with worry. "Romano is dead, and I think I know who's behind it."

Her subordinate nodded. "What do we do?"

Sicily bit her lip. "I'll need to go into hiding. If there's an increase of activity against us, we'll all need to go into hiding. And if uncle is going to personally hunt me down, I'll have to escape this country."

Right then her phone vibrated. She checked the message, and by her face it was obviously something she didn't like. "Uncle Feli just asked me, Vatican, Seborga and Sardinia to a meeting," She quickly put her phone away, closing her eyes to think, "If everything lines up, then he's going to try to kill me and the others. I'll go underground, it's my best shot at survival."

* * *

A Hurtan Albaicin 4P drove through the scenic Swiss alps, passing small villages and large forests. The Spanish car sped on the treacherous mountainside roads, familiar with the path after taking it so many times before.

Before long the car entered a valley, where amongst the spruce forest poked out the spires of a medieval castle. The 4P made its way across a bridge before passing underneath a tunnel, exiting it and slowing down so as to not miss the small path hiding amongst the trees. It turned onto that path, driving on the empty dirt road for several minutes before coming upon the gates of the castle.

The gates were tall and imposing, though once the car approached it they slowly slid open, the old metal grinding across the ground. The car entered the premises, driving to the parking lot, where several limousines were parked.

Spain smirked when he got out of his car. Switzerland was usually one to be frugal in most cases, but recently he was finally showing off his luxurious side.

He walked up the stone path, where at the wooden door a blonde girl stood, waiting for him.

"Good day to you Herr Antonio," Liechtenstein curtsied.

Spain joyously wrapped his arms around her, kissing each side of her cheek. "Ah, Hola hermosa! It's good to see you again!"

Liechtenstein giggled, expecting an intimate welcome from the Spaniard. "Brother is expecting you as usual."

"As I hoped," Spain laughed, ruffling the girl's hair.

The two walked into the castle, where Liechtenstein led him through the ancient halls and down the spiraling staircase into the dungeon.

"Brother, Antonio is here!" Liechtenstein called out into the basement, her voice bouncing off the cold, stone walls.

It took a moment for a voice to respond. "Ah, Lilly! Bring him over here will you?"

Liechtenstein smiled. "Will do!" She replied. Her wide green eyes sparkled up at Spain as they walked down the unlit hall until they saw light coming from the end of the basement.

There Switzerland himself stood in his usual green forest jacket, illuminated by the dozen candles or so and leaning against the pool table, a cigarette between his lips. His cold front broke, smiling when he saw the two. "Antonio!" He said, standing up to greet them.

Spain gave him the same treatment as he did with Liechtenstein, though this time he was a bit more put off by it. "Basch, hermano! How are you?"

"I'm doing fine," Switzerland coughed, forcing himself off of Spain, "What about you? Why didn't you fly here, we have a helipad now you know."

Spain shrugged. "I like your countryside, I'll never miss an opportunity to take a drive through it."

Switzerland looked extremely smug. "Of course, I don't have a problem with that."

"Is Sweden, that old bastard here?" Spain looked around, grinning when he spotted the blonde giant, though not bothering to go for a physical greeting. Sweden nodded at him in return, a good enough gesture for the quiet man.

"Well, it looks like everyone's here," Switzerland stated, picking up his pool cue, "Should we restart the game?"

"A game of cutthroat seems good to me," Sweden said.

Spain grinned and pulled off a cue stick from the wall. "Yeah, I'll play a round of that!"

Liechtenstein smiled at the three men. "I'll go make some snacks and refreshments for you three," She said.

"Thank you Lilly," Switzerland gently patted her shoulder, "We appreciate that."

Liechtenstein giggled and ran off into the darkness, while the three men prepared to play a round of pool, choosing their set. Spain got the low balls, while Sweden got the mid balls which left Switzerland with the high balls.

"So," Switzerland took the first shot, striking the center of the setup and sending the balls in all directions, "You all ready to do your part for the Armageddon?"

Sweden was next to take his shot, bouncing the 2 ball off the wall and into the right corner pocket in the head rail, causing Spain to let out a curse in his language. "I've been waiting for this moment for years."

"Si, it's been a long time coming," Spain retaliated by launching the 6 into a side pocket, "I almost forgot the Armageddon was a thing."

He grinned at the Scandinavian and Swiss men. "You two are supposed to be neutral, no? Is the commitment a betrayal to your oath of neutrality?"

Switzerland rolled his eyes and shook his head. "No. In fact it's an affirmation. I'm fighting for peace and stability," He aimed for the corner pocket at the foot rail but he was too short.

"I'm only doing this to protect my family," Sweden grunted, pocketing the 11 and the 1 to the others' dismay.

Spain pocketed the 13 and the 9, but neither Switzerland or Sweden reacted to this development. "I know, I frankly don't care about anyone else. What happened to Russia is unfortunate but necessary," he sighed when he slipped up on the 12, "I just want to keep my South American kids safe."

"How many of them are with us again?" Sweden asked.

"Four, and that's not enough," Spain answered sadly. He watched as the two others made their moves, but no balls were pocketed this round.

Switzerland grunted. "All I need is Liet and some space. I have confirmation that the Armageddon will destroy all those that cause violence and oppression, so I will join this righteous cause. The world will be a better place when everyone becomes neutral." Sweden and Spain laughed, though Switzerland looked absolutely serious.

"Russia deserves what he got, and the others will deserve what they get," Sweden muttered.

"Amen," Switzerland nodded.

"I'm going to miss France and England," Spain said, "They're pretty fun neighbors…"

Switzerland shook his head. "You know there are those that want to kill them. It's best if you just say your goodbyes to them. I don't need to say farewell to Germany or France, they've been just a pain in my ass for far too long."

"Russia and Germany have abused my friends for far too long," Sweden sent the cue ball into the side pocket, causing him to look slightly annoyed, "But now they won't be able to hurt anyone any longer."

"Excuse me," Liechtenstein's voice spooked all three men, quickly turning their faces to see the girl holding a plate of cookies and some glasses of wine.

"Ah, Lilly!" Switzerland exclaimed, looking at the sweets, "Thank you!"

Liechtenstein smiled sweetly. "Don't mention it, brother," She leaned up and kissed his cheek, putting the plate on the table beside the pool table, "I'm happy to do this for you." Switzerland blushed as she giggled and skipped off.

Spain whistled. "She's a sweet girl," He said.

"I know," Switzerland grunted, taking one of her cookies and biting it, "That's why I'm going to fight."

"I understand," Sweden said, reaching over and grabbing a cookie for himself, "Have you told her anything?"

Switzerland shook his head. "No. I don't want to expose her to such violence. And besides, I don't want her to get any ideas. God forbid if she gets hurt…"

Spain was already on his second sweet. "All three of us. We don't want revenge against anybody. All we're doing is fighting for those that we love. Isn't that right?"

"The viking, the conquistador and the mercenary now fighting for love," Sweden chuckled.

"Indeed," Switzerland passed a glass to each of them, filling it with juice, "A toast to family!"

Sweden and Spain raised their glasses. "To family!"

* * *

Liechtenstein was still in the basement when she heard the clinking of glasses from the three men. Her face was red as she dashed back up the stairs and onto the second floor.

She didn't know what they were up to, but it seemed serious. She knew they were supposed to be neutral in worldly affairs, so the fact that they were ready to _fight _was very strange to hear.

She sighed. So Switzerland still thought of her as defenseless. Even after years of training he didn't think she was strong enough. She understood how he felt, he was her overprotective brother after all. But still, to keep her out of the loop it must either be extremely important or damning.

She closed the door of her room, a cute chamber with pink and white walls with a queen size canopy bed filled with stuffed animals. There was a body length mirror on the back of her bathroom door, next to it a weight bench and a set of weights. A rack of dumbbells stood next beside the array of guns stacked on the wall.

Liechtenstein shed her white dress, revealing her petite but rather built body. She smiled at her abs, flexing her arms and legs to reveal the growing bumps of pure muscle on her limbs. She had been training even without her brother's supervision, and the results were showing.

Switzerland thought she was just a helpless princess. But she wanted to prove him wrong. Even though she didn't know what he was doing, she was going to help him however she could either way.

* * *

Utah woke up to find himself in an unfamiliar room, lying on a bed just large enough to fit him. He shook off the covers, realizing that he wasn't chained or handcuffed or anything to the bed. He stumbled to the mirror on the wall to take a good look at himself. He was still in his old clothes, which was somewhat of a comfort knowing whoever did this didn't violate his privacy too much. He shook his head, which was still aching from when he was knocked out.

Then the gears clicked. _He had been kidnapped_. Panic overswept him as he paced around the room, trying to figure out who would do such a thing. Why was he abducted? Where even was he? Could he leave this room in the first place?

He approached the door, tentatively pulling on the knob. To his surprise it swung wide open. He looked out the door to step into a hallway adorned with portrait paintings. He carefully walked down the hallway, turning to slide down the staircase and ending up in what looked like a living room.

Arizona was sitting on a recliner chair next to someone in a wheelchair, much of her body covered in bandages. They were both watching tv when Arizona noticed Utah by the base of the stairwell.

"Arizona?" Utah said incredulously.

"Oh you're finally awake," Arizona yawned, "It's been a few days since you were brought in."

"Where am I?" Utah asked, "What the hell happened? What are you doing here?"

Arizona shrugged. "I don't know. The last thing I remember was my house was broken into by a bunch of hooligans with guns, and some Asian dude used his kung fu moves on me and knocked me out."

Utah pinched the bridge of his nose. "Damn it. And you're just okay with this?"

Arizona sighed. "I tried to find ways to escape this place, but there's tall walls surrounding it. Besides," She pointed to the ankle monitor attached to her, "This thing will inject a poison if you try to escape the premises. It'll knock you out slowly and painfully."

Utah pulled up his pant leg, finding a similar device wrapped around his ankle. "Damn it," He cursed. He sat down on the couch, his eyes falling on the wheelchair ridden person. "Who's that?"

"Oh, that's West Virginia. Yeah, she got mauled by dogs," Arizona explained, and West Virginia closed her eyes and let out a whimper. Arizona sifted her hand through West Virginia's hair, whispering reassurances. "She hasn't spoken since I've been here."

"Christ! Who would do such a thing?" Utah exclaimed.

Arizona shook her head. "No clue. But it's obvious they want to keep us here. They even made accommodations for us. There's a backyard and a garden, and there's food stocked in the pantry. A lot of it is gumbo and grits though, but I'm not going to complain about that. Also lot's of whiskey."

"I'm glad I've been put into the most lenient prison in the country," Utah groaned.

"Indeed. And there's also the fact that this place gives me a sense of deja vu," Arizona said, with West Virginia nodding in agreement.

Utah felt something slither up his leg and looked down to be face to face with a sidewinder. He carefully picked it up, giving Arizona a hard look. "This yours?"

Arizona laughed sheepishly. "Yeah, they were kind enough to let Bravie Soto come along with me," She watched with glee as the snake wrapped itself around Utah, "Or maybe they were scared of him. Who knows, he can be a very persuasive little guy."

Utah slumped into a couch, tired and confused. He was now under house arrest for a reason he didn't know, and he couldn't do anything.

"So what happened to you?" Arizona asked.

"Well, I was hanging out by myself at Arches national park…" Utah tried to recall the events that happened before he was knocked unconscious when he remembered an important detail. He started to sweat, gripping the sides of the chair as if holding onto dear life.

Arizona saw the fear in his eyes, and even West Virginia seemed to perk up as well. "What happened?" Arizona demanded.

Utah was shaking. "I saw the person that knocked me out. I-I thought he was dead, gone from this world."

"Who was it?" Arizona pressed.

"It was-" Utah looked troubled even saying the name, "my twin brother."

Arizona's strong demeanor crumbled. "You've got to be kidding me. _Him_? I thought he died!"

"I know!" Utah said.

West Virginia looked at both of them, obviously confused as to who this person was.

Utah sighed. "He's a dangerous man. He wanted to become his own state, and used violence to have his way. I don't know what the hell he's planning but….." he froze, a painful realization hitting him, "Oh my god, Molossia!" He stood up, beelining for the front door.

"What are you doing?" Arizona stood up as well.

"Molossia is in danger!" Utah shouted, yanking the door open. He ran down the porch only to be met with a wall not far from the front steps.

Arizona hobbled over. "I told you so," She muttered, "There's nothing you can do now. We can only wait."

Utah crumpled to the ground, covering his face with his hands and began to cry at the hopelessness of his situation.

* * *

It had been a couple of days since Austria had been imprisoned in his own house. He still couldn't swallow the fact that he was stuck here with his ex wife-who was now his personal prison warden.

It was strange to be a prisoner of his love. She was all his-an unending constant in his life. She made his meals, cleaned his house, slept in the same bed, it was as if it was back in the old times when he was still an empire and she was his housekeeper. But now it was creepy. She was watching him every moment of the day, even when she wasn't in the same room as him he felt as though he was being watched. He felt both safe and unsafe in her care, as she would do everything to make him satisfied, and anything to keep him in her grasp.

He looked down at the monitor strapped to his ankle. He did his best to free himself of it, but it seemed like it was impervious to everything, even guns. Try as he might he had failed. And Hungary had warned him that if he tried to leave his property a poison in the monitor would be activated and be inserted into his bloodstream, sedating him. She had reassured him that it was in doses small enough to only knock him out, as large amounts of it would be able to kill a nation, both temporarily and permanently. When he had asked her how she knew she only winked and said that it was a 'trade secret'. That only made him even more concerned, both for himself and Hungary.

Speak of the devil, Hungary came strutting into his living room, wearing her old maid uniform. "I baked you some cookies!" She skipped to him, shoving a plate of cookies into his lap.

"Oh-er thanks Eliza," Austria carefully took one of the cookies-they were all faces of him and Hungary, which only irked him more. He bit into it, and instantly the flavor of coffee and sugar filled his mouth. "Whoha, this is really good." He said honestly.

Hungary's face brightened. "Really? I'm so glad!" She sat next to him on the couch practically glued to his body, "I worked really hard to get them to your liking!"

"I can tell, and it worked," Austria smiled faintly, "Thank you very much."

Hungary was giddy as she took a cookie of her face and bit it. "Mmmm. it's delicious," She whispered. She stuck the rest of the cookie into Austria's mouth, who promptly finished it. They looked at each other before bursting into laughter. It was like things were normal again.

But they weren't.

There was a ring from Hungary's chest pocket, and she pulled it out, checking the message she received and made a disgruntled face. "Damn it, I have to go," She grumbled.

"To where?" Austria asked, not really expecting an actual answer.

To his surprise, she was honest with him. "Lithuania called in a meeting of all the Eastern and Central European countries to his and Bel's place. We're going to officially induct Belarus into the Armageddon," She explained.

Austria nodded. That didn't sound good at all, but he managed to keep a straight face. "Oh...okay then…"

"Yeah," Hungary sighed, before planting her lips on his. After a few seconds she released, standing up and smiling down at him. "I won't be gone for long, so be a good boy and get ready for tonight," She winked. Austria could only nod.

After she left, he felt a weight had been lifted off his shoulder. He could finally think for himself. But he had to be honest, what could he do? The entire house was bugged and watched 24/7, and it was all connected to Hungary's phone, which meant escape was impossible.

He sighed. He could only make the best use of his predicament, which included a top-tier woman who was ogling over him. Most men would have no problem with that no doubt. But he also knew his brothers were in trouble, and he could do nothing to help him.

Never have he been faced with such a moral dilemma.

* * *

"You've got to be kidding me," Estonia muttered.

Latvia looked over at him, looking extremely bored with his life. "What's up?"

Estonia showed him the text. "Lithuania wants us to go back to his place. It's to bring Belarus into the fold. Everybody on our side of the continent is going to be there."

"Does that mean abandoning our mission?" Latvia asked.

Estonia shrugged. "He said that we'll be back here tomorrow," he replied.

Latvia rolled his eyes. "So what's the problem?"

"I don't like to be pulled all over the place. If I'm going to do something I don't want to do it half-heartedly."

"We've been watching them for a few days now, and they haven't done anything unusual."

"True," Estonia mumbled.

"Come on, it's going to be fun! I bet it's going to be a party," Latvia said, "Drinks, food, and someone is probably going to get-" he whistled, and it was Estonia's turn to roll his eyes.

Latvia turned on his car. "It's going to be fun," he reiterated, "And seeing Lithuania and Belarus be lovey-dovey is going to be funny." He drove out of his parking spot, going back to friendly territory for the day.

* * *

When Prussia saw the Volkswagen from across his house drive away he felt the vague sense of alarm he had felt dissipate. It had been parked there for several days, and it was not a familiar car on the city block. It was strange to say the least, but now he could breathe a sigh of relief.

Kaliningrad seemed to notice something as well, as her head perked up from the couch. "Hey dad, did you feel that?" She asked with a slightly concerned look on her face.

Prussia nodded. "Yeah. There was a car across the street that just took off. It gave me some weird vibes," he shuddered, "It's been there for the past few days. I don't know what it was doing there."

"Well it's gone now, isn't it?" Kaliningrad said.

"Yeah, and I hope it doesn't come back."

Kaliningrad smiled. "We'll be fine. If they come back, you'll take care of them. You're a strong country aren't you?"

Prussia smirked, knowing that she was feeding his ego, which was what he wanted. "Damn straight, I'm the coolest and strongest country on the planet!"

"I wouldn't expect any less from you! And what does that make me?" Kalingrad giggled.

Prussia beamed with confidence. "The second coolest and strongest country in the world!"

That made Kaliningrad laugh out loud. "I'm glad I have you to rely on," The two shared their moment, knowing full well that they were safe from any danger.

* * *

Lithuania's house was already crammed with countries by the time Estonia and Latvia reached it. Estonia knocked on the door, only for it to swing open with Poland standing in the doorway. "You're late!" He said angrily.

"What?" That took Estonia and Latvia by surprise. But seeing just how pissed Poland looked, they messed up big time.

But Poland's scowl quickly turned into a big grin. "Wow, I really got you two! You guys look like you pissed yourselves!" He laughed, pulling the two petrified Balts inside, "Okay but you guys are late, like everybody else is already here!"

The house was filled with nations. Ukraine, Belarus, Lithuania and Hungary were conversing in the kitchen over a bottle of Pálinka while Romania was easily handling Bulgaria in a game of ping pong, and as usual Czechia and Slovakia were arguing over something trivial.

Lithuania noticed Estonia and Latvia from the corner of his eye. "Ah, Edouard, Ravis! You're finally here!" He laughed, pulling the two Balts into a group hug.

"Well you can count on us!" Estonia grinned and managed to wiggle out of Lithuania's grasp. Latvia was not so lucky, getting squeezed a bit too hard.

"Come on, let's get this started," Lithuania said, standing up, "Listen up! Everyone is here so let's get this started!" All the countries stopped whatever they were doing to gather at the kitchen table, each taking a seat.

He poured a glass of wine for each of the nations before putting a document in front of Belarus, who eyed it warily. "This document here," He explained, "is your entry into our alliance."

Belarus nodded as she looked over it, still treating it suspiciously as if it were an explosive.

Open borders with fellow european nations, extended trade benefits, joint military aid and collective security, those weren't anything bad, was it? But it looked like it was made specifically for aggressive expansion, and it was strange to see Italy and a few other nations outside the eastern sphere included in this pact. And there was the clause of cutting off contact with the rest of the world with a few exceptions. The most troubling aspect was the fact that there would be lands in Russia set aside for her annexation.

"A lot of this is troubling," She said out loud, "Why is Italy in this alliance? He's nowhere near the rest of us. Why do I have to cut myself off from the rest of the world, and why is my brother's land a part of the alliance?" She demanded.

Lithuania sighed. "I know there are a few…..confusing clauses. But don't worry. They're perfectly reasonable," He patted her shoulder, "Italy is a good friend and has been very supportive of us, so it's only reasonable he gets to share in our spoils. Cutting off the rest of the world means that you won't need to rely on them for anything. We only need each other to survive. And for Russia, we thought that with everything happening to him, he might fall into another civil war. So to minimize the chaos we decided that we'll each take a part of his land to help him restabilize himself."

He watched Belarus process the information, trying to rationalize what he told her. He's hoping she'll understand, and to not realize that this was all just word soup, all just to bring her into the Armageddon. He felt kind of bad, but knew it was necessary to move their plans forward. This was better for Belarus, whether she knew it or not.

"Will my brother know that you might be...intervening?" Belarus asked. Lithuania smiled inside at her use of language. She had already joined at heart.

"No, he'll take it the wrong way," He replied.

Belarus nodded. "He definitely will," she agreed. She looked at the bottom of the document, where her signature was supposed to be. She looked around for a pen before being handed one. Her hand shook as it hovered above the line, contemplating. She frowned. This all felt weird, as if something was going on behind her back. It was a creeping feeling, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was.

She knew what they were anticipating, and she couldn't just simply refuse, could they? She could care less about the others, but she didn't want to disappoint Lithuania. This meant a lot to him, and she didn't want to ruin what they've built up for so long. Putting all of her reservations aside, she signed her name on the document. As she lifted the pen off of the paper a surge of strength surged through her body. She could feel what could only be described as bonds be connected and severed as her body adjusted to her new state of existence.

Lithuania grinned and kissed her forehead. "Congrats, you did it! Welcome to the club!" He raised his glass into the air. Everyone else followed in the toast, and the party resumed.

* * *

Several personifications stood in front of Italy's mansion. They were all relatives to the Italian nation, as their brown hair and curls indicated. They had all been called here by their brothe, and the way Italy instructed them, it was unlike anything they've heard from him. He was stern, almost angry. Knowing that something was up, they decided to simply obey him.

"I've never heard him like that," Seborga, the only micronation muttered. He was the youngest of the bunch, and as such looked the most worried. He looked at his seniors, who were older than him by thousands of years. "Has he ever been like that before?"

Sardinia, the only female of the group shook her head. "No. From the beginning he was always soft spoken," She looked just as worried, "He was always a mild mannered kid."

San Marino let out a nervous laugh. "Maybe he's just a bit rattled from what's happened in Russia? Ivan's own regions backstabbed him, maybe he's afraid of the same thing?"

That made Seborga even more alarmed. "What is he going to do? Is he going to imprison all of us preemptively?"

"I hope not, we've all been loyal to him," Sardinia muttered, "He better be a grateful country."

"Where's Sicily?" San Marino asked, looking around the grounds and not seeing the island girl anywhere, "She should be here as well."

"She was always the runt of the litter," Sardinia huffed, obviously not very happy with Sicily failing to show up, "She's probably hiding somewhere just to annoy Italy, you know how she is." San Marino and Seborga nodded, as it was true that Sicily always did everything she could to drive Italy up the walls.

"I don't see Romano either," Seborga noted.

"He's probably bugging Italy already," Sardinia snorted.

"All of you, cease your worrying," It was then the last man spoke up. Despite not being the oldest in years he was the one considered most wise, with his elegant Catholic robes, his wiry glasses on his weathered face made Vatican look like the father figure of the Italians. He looked tired more than anything else as his purple eyes rested on his fellow regions. "Whatever the case may be, I believe that no harm will come upon us this day." He stated.

"Are you sure about that?" Seborga whined.

Vatican nodded. "We will be fine," He reassured the young micronation.

It was then the gates opened, letting the four personifications enter the property. They walked on a dirt path, each side flanked by ominous statues of Roman emperors and Italian statesmen. They climbed the hill, where the mansion perched at the top. The house was several stories tall and overlooked the city of Rome.

They all briefly halted at the front door, none of them too eager to go inside. But Vatican was insistent. "Come on, let's not keep him waiting." And so they stepped inside the house.

It wasn't long until they saw Italy sitting on his couch. He looked up at them expectedly, a slight smirk on his face that unsettled all of the incomers.

"Good to see all of you actually came!" Italy looked at each of the personifications, his smile slowly replaced by a frown, "Where is Sicily?"

Sardinia shrugged. "She didn't show," She replied in a straightforward manner.

That obviously put Italy off. "Shit…" He muttered, before shaking his head, "Whatever, that's to be expected. Anyways, I've brought you all here for an important reason."

"Where's Romano? Wouldn't be here as well if this was so important?" San Marino asked.

"That's part of the reason," He said, "Romano is permanently dead."

Everyone was silent. A country? Dead? How was that possible? That simple yet powerful statement posed many questions, many that they didn't dare ask.

All except Vatican. "Permanently dead? How is that-" He started to ask, but was interrupted by Italy.

"Come on, you know that we have the ability to permanently kill regions. Grandpa did it, I did it, and you tried it as well!" Italy exclaimed. Vatican looked down, trying not to make eye contact with the others.

And they all stared at him. "You know how to do something like that?" San Marino sputtered.

"Have you killed someone before?" Seborga demanded.

"No!" Vatican shouted to the surprise of all, "Those holy secrets may be hidden in my archives, but I will never use them!" He pointed at Italy, "but how do _you_ know?"

Italy rolled his eyes and huffed. "I'm the heir of the Roman Empire. Do you expect me _not _to know?"

"But why? Why Romano?" Vatican was persistent, pointing at the North Italian, "Why would you kill him?"

"Because he was a liability," Italy was getting annoyed by this little interrogation. He glared at Vatican. "He was a threat, as well as Sicily. I wanted to bring her here to end things quickly, but she must have known her fate would be had she come."

He motioned the others to sit down. "Whatever, the reason why I invited you over is because I'm here to tell you that a world war is unfolding. A war that I've been planning for decades."

"You can't be serious," San Marino said.

Italy nodded. "I am very serious. It's already been set into motion. All over the world, if you've been following the news lately you'd know what's going on."

"The attacks in Moscow," Vatican muttered, "That was your doing."

"Indeed that was," Italy smiled, "Russia has fallen into a civil war, removing one powerful obstacle to our plans. Those regions only needed a little push to rise against Russia. They hate him to such an extreme that they will go to any lengths to destroy him."

"What's your end goal?" Sardinia growled, "And what are you going to do with us?"

"To replace this world with a new order, where the weak will no longer be abused by the corrupt and powerful," Italy said, "You all know how much injustice there is in this current state of the world. America, Russia, China, etc have abused their powers for far too long. I intend to put them to justice."

"By killing them?" San Marino questioned.

"By killing them," Italy affirmed. He ignored the looks on the others' faces and continued, "we will be able to take control of the planet ourselves. We will no longer have to bow down to their rules!"

"And what about us?" Vatican pressed, "What will happen to us?"

Italy smiled. "You will have more freedom as well. Hell, if you want I'll even give you colonies around the world! You'll all be rich beyond your dreams. You'll be able to help your people out in any way possible!"

The others just looked at each other. That was quite the prospect for all of them, they had to admit. If they had everything they could to help their people, it would take a lot off of their shoulders. If Italy was telling the truth, then a victory for them would mean all of their lives would become infinitely better. But what would be the cost?

Seborga, being the micronation, spoke up first. "If this means we'll be better off, then I'll help you!" He declared.

Sardinia nodded, if somewhat reluctantly. "You're my boss, it's only natural for me to follow your lead. I just hope you make the right choices."

San Marino sighed. "I guess I don't really have a choice do I. Whatever, I'll support you."

"Thank you all!" Italy laughed, "I appreciate your support."

Vatican looked like the only one who was opposed to all of this. "I can't believe you would resort to war. Have you not learned from the last one?"

"This time it's different! I'm prepared! We will win!" Italy replied.

"Millions will die!"

"I know."

"Is it worth it?" Vatican demanded.

Italy narrowed his eyes at the Catholic man. "It is."

Vatican felt a shiver down his back and gulped. "I….I see," He knew that Italy had changed. No, not changed. This was his true self he's been hiding for so long. And he was finally exacting his plans, and nothing was going to stop him now.

* * *

"Won't you stay, Elizabeta?" Latvia's slurred from the couch, waving an empty bottle of vodka towards the Hungarian woman, "the night is only beginning, hic~"

Hungary chuckled and shook her head. "No, I'm sure Roderick is missing me terribly, and I'm still sober enough to drive," She waved her hand and opened the door.

"Are you leaving us?" Romania, who was on the ground, grabbed her leg, "You're going to abandon us for your boyfriend, I see how it is!"

"I...I must go home!" Hungary stuttered, taken by surprise. She tried to shake Romania off, but despite being drunk, or perhaps because of it had a grip of steel around her ankle. "Hey, let go!"

"NO!" Romania cried out, "Stay with us! Don't leave us behind!"

Hungary looked around the house, trying to get the attention of the other drunk nations. "Do I have to use the frying pan?"

Romania shook his head, looking up at her with wilting, pleading eyes. "Don't leave…"

Hungary was relentless, finally prying Romania off of her. "Christ, just get drunk by yourselves.." She muttered, quickly getting into her car and driving back to Austria.

"Shit...we lost one," Romania grunted.

"Come back over here, Vlad!" Bulgaria shouted from the living room. Romania staggered up and made his way to the couch, where Bulgaria, Latvia and Estonia were drunkenly watching tv. On the way there he accidentally bumped into Slovakia, who was giddy and carrying Czechia to an empty room, slamming the door behind them.

"Turn up the tv, I don't want to hear 'em," Romania said as he jumped onto the couch. Latvia grunted and turned the volume up, drowning out whatever the other two countries were doing in private.

"Lit,Bel,Ukraine and Poland are already upstairs," Estonia groaned, crushing a beer can, "and the rest of us are just here alone."

"I don't care about all that, it's stupid," Latvia grumbled.

Bulgaria jeered at the Latvian. "You just say that because you're jealous," he taunted.

Latvia's face turned bright red. "Am not!" He exclaimed.

"Aren't we all?" Estonia chuckled, "Look at us. We're just like a bunch of fratboys while they're enjoying themselves."

"That's just sad," Romania chugged a beer, throwing the can behind the couch. He sighed and grabbed another beer. "Why don't we have ourselves a woman at this point in our lives?"

"Latvia looks like a child so he'll never get one at this rate," Bulgaria sniggered.

"Shut up!" Latvia threw an empty can at his head. It hit, and Bulgaria let out a small yelp. Latvia looked smug at the Bulgarian, who knew he deserved that. "I want to be in a relationship, bad~" He whimpered.

"We'll find someone for you," Estonia reassured, "During this fight, we'll get a woman for you."

"Maybe a guy? Who knows what could happen," Romania suggested.

They all looked at each other and grabbed another can of beer. Now that was something to drink on. It wasn't even an impossibilty, and it was amusing to think who would be the first out of them to get a lover, whether male or female. Love and war, that was all they had in their lives now.

* * *

**Hello, it's been a bit! I'm so sorry, I had terrible writer's block, as well as being busy in general. It's been rough the past few months, and I've just sort of lost my touch. But hopefully I'll be back in my groove soon enough. I haven't abandoned this story, so do please look forward to future chapters! **

**I feel pretty bad for Belarus, not going to lie. In the other stories she's evil/completely crazy or dead so I've decided to change it up a bit, making her more mellow and docile. Honestly I prefer this version of Belarus, I find her really adorable. But now she's being unknowingly manipulated to join the Armageddon. And it's not as if Lithuania doesn't love her. I suppose this is the first toxic relationship I've written, and since it's usually Belarus physically abusing Lithuania, now Lithuania emotionally manipulating Belarus is kind of ironic? I don't want to make light of things like that but at the same time this is a very interesting dynamic that I will definitely expand on. And with Austria and Hungary, there will be more lopsided relationships as well. But don't worry, there will be much more wholesome relationships, I can promise you.**


	12. The Rights of States

**Yours The Author, Anime4Life5 and Vexey1999, thank you for the reviews!**

* * *

Italy was sitting in his study, his computer running and a colored map hanging on the wall. There were pins and markings all over the world, indicating which countries were members or targets as well as the next significant plans that were in play. Speaking of which…

He swiveled his chair to face a monitor and pressed a remote. The screen turned on, revealing America sitting on his couch in his living room. He was getting dressed, throwing on a suit and tie.

"Damn it, Bian. Is this all we have?" America groaned as he caught a jacket from off screen.

"Yes, and it's a damned good one at that! Don't complain, this is important!" The female voice caught Italy off guard for a second. It shouldn't be too surprising that America had a girlfriend, but who it was, he couldn't recognize. Oh well, he would find out in due time.

America looked glum about it. "Now all of my states are going to make fun of me again!" He whined, "You know they like to rip on me for being behind on the times!"

Italy chuckled. That's right. Today was America's states' monthly meeting. He smirked. This meeting was going to be one that they'll remember for the rest of their lives, that's for sure.

"Oh, shut it! Do you really think now is the time they'll do something like that?" An East Asian woman poked her head through the doorway. "Now's too serious for jokes like that!"

America sighed, putting the jacket on and staring straightforward, as if he was looking straight at Italy. "You know, sometimes I feel as if the painting Italy gave me is just watching my every move."

The woman raised her eyebrows and stared into the camera. "It is a weird painting. How old is it?" She shook her head, hitting America in the back of the head with the spoon she held, "That isn't important. You need to get to DC for the meeting!" She barked.

America jumped up. "Okay okay, jeez. Later Bian, I love you," He kissed the woman on the lips.

She blushed and kissed back. "Love you too, Alfie~" She waved as America grabbed his shoes and ran out the door. As the door slammed shut she turned to look at the camera again, walking closer. "There is something about this painting." She muttered.

Italy laughed. If only they knew their privacy was completely breached.

* * *

"Dammit!" Utah slammed his fist against the wall.

"What's up?" Arizona asked.

Utah looked at her, his face brimming with anger. "Today's the meeting!" He exclaimed.

Arizona sighed. "That's right," She muttered, closing the book she was reading. She looked tired, accepting the fate she had been given. "I hope they're going to try to find us. I hope dad does…"

"Gah, knowing them they won't get anything done!" Utah exclaimed, "They're just going to argue over who gets the most donuts and weed!"

Arizona opened back her book. "Let's just hope this time they have enough sense…"

West Virginia grunted angrily, still confined to her chair. Recovery was slow, even for a state. So her being mad had been nothing unusual for the past few weeks.

Utah slumped on the wall. "We can't be this screwed, can we? Things can't get any worse than this…"

* * *

America didn't think he would be feeling nervous before a states' meeting, but here he was in DC, trying to keep his nerves down. He looked up at the United States Capitol, taking in the magnificent marble pillars. He knew this meeting was going to be the most important meeting ever since 9/11.

His anxiety only heightened as his states arrived, greeting him as they filed inside. A few of them did poke fun at his jacket, though it was nothing in bad taste.

He bumped into one state, a well built man that looked almost identical to America, with the difference being his sunglasses and his darker blonde hair, with a visible lack of a cowlick. "Ah...Texas.." America said.

"Howdy, mister Alfred. How you doin'?" Texas tipped his ten gallon hat. He smiled, but Alfred could see it was forced.

"I'm good, Felix. How are you?"

Texas's smile dropped a little. "Tired. I've been worried about my Heather ever since she disappeared," He shook his head, sighing, "she was always one to be on her own, but not like this…"

"We'll find her. We'll find Arizona," Alfred patted Texas on the shoulder, "How is California and New Mexico taking this?"

"Well, they're taking the disappearance of their sister well. Hell, I'm pretty sure they've even warmed up to me a little bit in the past weeks," Texas laughed a little, "They haven't given up lookin for her."

America nodded. "That's good. We all should continue the search. This meeting is because of what happened to Arizona and West Virginia."

"I'm pretty sure Virginia took this harder than I have. She was his younger sister after all.."

"Yeah….they're both my responsibility as well…" America patted Texas' shoulder one last time before walking towards the house chamber. Fortunately every time the states convened the Capitol Building was sealed off in the guise of maintenance to keep visitors and the politicians away.

America bumped into another state. "Oh, hey Utah!" America said.

The man turned around. "Yo, what's up America!" He grinned at America, his eyes flickering towards his jacket, "damn, what's with that jacket?"

America felt his cheeks burn. "It was all I had today," He muttered.

The man posing as Utah smiled. "Well, it looks good on you!"

"Really? Does it not make me look old?" America's eyes lightened up.

"No, it does. It just fits in with your mopeyness!" The man laughed.

America pouted. "That wasn't very nice of you," He said.

The man let out a small chuckle. "I'm sorry man."

"You better be," America rolled his eyes, "anyways, you seem to be oddly in a cheery mood."

The man shrugged. "I just woke up feeling good. I don't know what it is," He replied.

America raised an eyebrow. "Even as Arizona has gone missing."

"Whoah, whoah, don't get me wrong! She's my neighbor, and I have gone looking for her!" The man threw his hands up defensively, "I hope she's okay too, you know."

"I know, we're all worried about her," America said, "I'm thankful you were able to make this."

The man winked. "Yeah, of course I'll be here for you man! You're family!" He gave a cheerful wave and ran off ahead into the chambers.

America smiled, but something nagged at the back of his mind. Something wasn't right, but he couldn't tell what it was. Utah looked different than usual, but he couldn't put a finger on it. He shrugged. It was probably colored contact lenses or something mundane like that. It wasn't important anyhow, he had two missing states to deal with.

* * *

Texas saw America's back disappear within the crowd of states and sighed. America was well meaning, but he was dull witted and distant. He wasn't fit to lead a country anymore. It was sad but true. The fact that he couldn't even find Arizona and West Virginia yet attested to that.

He looked over to Virginia, who was also a near clone of America except for his hair being slick and light, and his eyes being a bright, intelligent green. He looked back at Texas, lightly smirking. They both knew what the other was thinking.

Texas made his way to Virginia. "He has no idea," He whispered.

Virginia nodded. "Of course he doesn't. He's oblivious to everything. I almost feel bad for him."

"We've been planning this for a long time. And with how he's going, he's going to run this place to the ground. This is better for everybody."

"I know," Virginia said, "we all know. It's just going to be hard for some of us, especially North Carolina."

"Don't worry about him. He knows he has to~" Both men froze when they heard a woman's smooth French accent float into their ears. They looked over and saw the face of a slightly brown skinned woman smirking at them.

"Louisiana, don't scare us like that…" Texas chuckled.

Louisiana gave him a dreamy look. "You know I'm harmless, cher~" She winked at the two men.

Virginia felt a shudder down his back. This mysterious woman did scare him sometimes. "Yeah, we all do, when you're sober…"

"What was that?" Louisiana's piercing blue eyes glared at the Southerner.

Virginia gulped and looked away. "Nothing," He said.

"That's right," Louisiana giggled and walked away. Virginia and Texas looked at each other, trying to understand that Cajun woman.

* * *

America yawned in his seat as the states filled up the chamber. As usual the Southern states sat together, as did the Northern and Midwestern states. That was both a good and a bad thing; as regions they were more close than with the other states, but it meant as neighbors they were prone to bickering with one another. He didn't care about all that. What his states did weren't really his concern, unless they got into some sort of trouble.

DC sat next to him, looking just as tired as he was. "Thank god, I'm finally not the only one taking this seriously," He groaned. He looked at the states below him, who were all talking to one another, with a few eating meals, "on second thought, maybe I am…"

"It's early in the morning let them-" America started to say when DC grabbed a microphone and cleared his throat, his voice vibrating within the chambers and shutting everyone up.

"Thank you," DC said, tapping on his microphone before sitting down.

America stood up. "Thank you all for being able to make it to this meeting. This is a troublesome time for all of us, especially regarding the disappearance of two of our fellow states-"

"It's been weeks and we still haven't found them yet!" Minnesota shouted.

"I know, I know!" America answered exasperatedly, "But I believe that this is beyond a simple disappearance case."

"The hell does that mean?" The other states murmured among each other, interrupting America once again.

"Maybe this is a conspiracy!" Nebraska gasped.

"Those damn Chinese, first stealing our data and stealing our states!" Oregon muttered.

"It's the global elite! This is the beginning of their endgame!" New Mexico exclaimed.

"You know, it's probably aliens…" Nevada suggested.

"God, this better not be a prank!" California groaned.

"It's not a prank!" America said, raising his hands up, "This might be related to what happened in Russia!"

That took everyone by surprise. While many did settle down, accepting this proposal, some were obviously upset from that suggestion, especially from the conservative states.

"You're always blaming everything on the Russians! What is it with you and them!" Tennessee shouted at America. He looked like America, except his front hair is shorter and that he looked much older due to his pastor's outfit. He shook his fist at America. "Do you still want to start a war with them?"

"You're just going to blame it on the Democrats again anyways!" New Jersey shouted at him in return.

Tennessee turned on her. "You're just going to blame it on the Republicans!" He retorted.

New Jersey smirked, her heavily tanned skin glinting under the lights. "You're damn right! They're what's wrong with this country!"

"Shut it! The left is what's dividing this country!" Georgia's braided ponytail bobbed as she shook with anger towards the Jerseyite.

"Oh, not the racists?" Washington jeered.

"Hey, the hell does that mean?" Georgia growled, "Y'all libtards are the racist ones!"

"Come on, can't we just chill?" Colorado rocked back in his seat, his black moppy hair covered by a pom-pom beanie and his red eyes covered by sunglasses as he lit up a blunt. A wide grin was splattered across his face as he watched his fellow states begin to duke it out with one another.

It was then a blonde girl slapped the blunt out of his hand. "Don't smoke that shit in here!" Her Scandinavian accent came out thick, as it usually did when Wisconsin got upset.

"Hey! My fruity pebble! That stuff is expensive!" Colorado dropped to his knees to pick up his valuable marijuana, but Wisconsin crushed it with her boot, causing him to cry out in anguish.

America and DC just watched the room devolve into chaos. "Why does this always happen?" America groaned, "Why do I always expect this?"

"This shit…" DC grumbled. He slammed his fist against the railing of the stand. "Shut UP!" He roared, and everyone fell back silent.

America pinched the bridge of his nose. "If I may continue what I was saying earlier. None of that has to do with what we are talking about right now. I was trying to say that in Russia, rogue regions rose up and attacked him and his other oblasts."

"So now you're suggesting some of us might be behind it?" New Jersey asked.

"I don't know," America shrugged, "But lately I've felt something has been off in this country the past few weeks, right around when terrorist attacks started in Russia."

"The first Moscow attack did happen around the time West Virginia and Arizona disappeared," California noted.

America nodded. "Yeah, and there were also a rise of street protests and attacks by radical groups across the country, especially in the south," He said.

The southern states looked sour. "What does that imply?" Georgia grumbled.

"Do I really have to go into detail?" America raised an eyebrow, "You guys know the deal. With things going in a downturn, there are those that want a return of a….certain something…"

"There's been a rise of hatred against this country!" DC finished, "There is anti-American rhetoric everywhere."

"Are you accusing us of being anti-American?" Alabama growled, "Because I believe that out of the entire country, the South embraces the constitution and democracy over all the others!" Her eyes flickered towards the western states in particular.

"Sure, the KKK would love to agree," California hissed.

"Antifa would love to have a word with you!" Georgia shouted back, "I guess they beat you over the head so hard you lost your ability to think for yourself!"

California turned red. "That was uncalled for!"

"You know it's true!" Georgia laughed smugly.

"Shut up!" America shouted, and everyone went quiet once again. He glared at all the states. "You really love to argue, don't you?"

"I wanna bash their head in right now," Georgia muttered.

"HEY!" America was getting more irritated by the second. These sessions always drove him mad, and the fact that two states were still gone nagging at the back of his mind didn't help at all. "Can you guys be civil for at least five minutes!"

"You're the one that's always pushing us down!" Tennessee exclaimed, "you're forcing your tyrannical rules onto us!"

"Yeah!" Mississippi stood up, her curled brown hair reaching her hips, "You keep on trying to take our rights away!"

America blinked. "The hell are you talking about? You're talking out of your ass, that's what you're doing. I am literally the one that protects your rights."

Virginia stood up as well. "Look, we admire your ideals, that's completely true. But we do not agree with your bloated bureaucracy and poisonous politics. You're dragging yourself and all of us down with you, and we can't bear to follow this charade any longer," He looked directly into America's eyes, filled with determination to do something drastic, "Sorry America, you're a good guy but a terrible leader. I-we're not going to keep ourselves down any longer."

America's eyes widened. "What the hell are you talking about-"

"America, on behalf of the Southern States of America I declare that we secede from the Union," Virginia declared.

"What? You can't do that!" rage bubbled inside America as he tried to process what Virginia had just said. Just like him, the rest of the states were in disbelief and angry as well.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" New Jersey demanded.

"Are you really seceding because of a little bit of trouble going on? How cowardly are you?" Michigan roared.

"A little trouble?" Texas scoffed, "This country has been going down for decades. He-" he pointed at America, "has been doing a shit job, letting corrupt politicians destroy this once great country. He's sitting idly on his high horse while we're the ones that are suffering!"

"How entitled are you? He's been working his ass off for you people and this is how you repay him? By BETRAYING him?" Washington shouted.

"And look where following him got us! We're all doing for the worse. This country is going to the dumps and it's his fault!" South Carolina huffed.

"Who do you think you are, you bastards!?" Maine yelled down at the Southerners.

"We only want our rights as states returned to us! To free ourselves from the shackles of big government!" South Carolina exclaimed.

America swallowed his anger down. He had to diffuse this with care. "So, who is supposedly 'seceding' from me?"

Texas was the first one to proclaim his secession. "You know I can support myself without your help," He stated.

"Bye bye Alfie, nice knowing ya!" Mississippi grinned.

"High time I leave this place," South Carolina muttered.

North Carolina looked reluctant but still raised his hand. "Goodbye.."

Alabama and Georgia looked jubilant, laughing and flipping America off while Florida smirked. "Adiós pendejo!" She exclaimed.

"Later bro," Arkansas called out.

Louisiana looked mysterious as ever, winking at America. "Au revoir, cher~" She sang.

"I hope you repent for your sins," Tennessee said.

"I'm happy to be free again," Mississippi jeered.

Virginia smirked at him. "Look at that, it's the old gang back together again. We want out, America. And there's nothing you can do to stop it. It's better to just let us go peacefully and not fight us."

"Oh really?" America raised an eyebrow, "And how is that going to work? I'm even stronger than before. It's going to end up like last time. You're even more isolated than before, there's nothing you can do to fight me," He smirked. He knew this was true, there was no way he would lose another civil war.

But Virginia laughed, taking America by surprise. "Oh, you really do underestimate us. We've been preparing this moment for a long, long time. All of our State guards, State Defense Forces, militias, ROTC and JROTC units have all been prepared to fight for our cause. Of course we also do have supporters all over the country as well. If you think this is going to be an easy fight, you couldn't be more wrong!"

America gritted his teeth, barely keeping it together. "Don't think that just because you have a bunch of hooligans with guns will mean you'll win against the entire country," he snarled.

Virginia shrugged. "Oh, you said we're alone? You're also wrong on that part too."

"And who the hell is helping _you_?" America demanded.

"Oh, I have friends from all across the world~" A crisp, southern voice echoed from the entrance doors. Everyone turned to see a woman in a strangely modern looking Confederate uniform, her long, black hair tied up in a braided ponytail. She had a cowlick similar to America,popping out from her hat.

Her hips swayed as she marched down the aisle, clicking her boots on the floor and walking up to America, her bright blue eyes just the same as him. Her bright pink lips turned into a sneer as she looked up at him. "Hey there brother. Have you missed me?"

"B-Belle?" America stuttered, staring at her in disbelief. He couldn't believe it. She was alive. The personification of the former Confederate States of America was alive and in front of him. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean? Didn't you hear Virginia, we're seceding!" She laughed.

"How are you alive?" America growled, his hands itching to wrap themselves around her throat, but he restrained himself, "I thought you died after the Civil War."

Belle smirked. "I escaped to Brazil for a few years before secretly coming back. I was behind the KKK and the Jim Crow laws," She explained, getting more smug seeing America get more horrified, "I even did my dues for you, brother. I fought in the Philippines, World War One and in the Pacific War."

"I also did everything I could to undermine your authority. The Second KKK and Third KKK, the Dixiecrats, I could go on and on! Oh, especially the Civil Rights movements. That was supposed to be my great return, but you were too strong once again," She chuckled and shook her own head, looking back at her own mistakes, "Honestly, I didn't even care if you got rid of the Jim Crow laws and segregation. I just wanted to keep them in place just to spite you. But you were too strong, and so I slunk back into the shadows, this time learning from my mistakes."

"And now you're here," America finished.

Belle nodded excitedly. "Yup! My plans have come to fruition! My allies have graciously supported me, sending me money and weapons for this day."

"Who? Was it the Soviets?" America grilled, "Who are your allies?"

"Oh no, I'm not a commie. If anything you are!" Belle winked, and America felt a shiver go down his spine. She looked so cheerful right now, just telling him her plans must have been a moment she was waiting for…

"Then who are they?" America asked again.

"That's a secret for now! Sorry, no spoilers!" Belle laughed, "But I will tell you that my allies are many, we are much stronger than any enemy you've faced."

America scowled. "That sounds like a bluff to me."

"I can assure you that it's not," Belle winked again, "And some of them really want you dead. Like, really, very, permanently dead. They want to torture you painfully."

"That could be anybody," America pointed out.

"I know," Belle replied with a shiny smile, "but it's not anybody you'll expect."

"You're not getting away with this," America threatened, "Even if you do have allies, I'm going to crush you before they can help you."

"Do you really think so? My allies are holding Arizona and West Virginia even as we speak," Belle revealed.

Everything went silent. America and all the states, even some of the Southern states all stared at her, horrified at the revelation.

"YOU!" America roared, jumping over the railing and throwing a punch at Belle's face, "YOU'RE THE ONE THAT TOOK THEM!"

Belle jumped back, cackling. "Hey, I understand you're angry but don't worry! They're in safe hands, I can promise you. All we want is our freedom, Alfie! I don't want to hurt you, you're still my brother. We can resolve all of this without any of us dying." She giggled and pecked America on the cheek before walking out of the chamber, joined by her Southern states, leaving the rest of the country hanging.

Everybody began screaming, being overtaken by fear and PTSD while America crumpled to the ground, his hands covering his face. DC ran over to his boss, kneeling down. "Sir..?" He asked.

"This can't be happening…" America whispered, his voice quivering, "It..it can't be…"

"Get up, sir. Please," DC hauled America back to his feet. America had to lean against the railing as his entire body was violently shaking.

America readjusted his glasses, trying to control his hyperventilating. "Why her of all people? Why did she have to return? The one person I was afraid of…"

"Get a hold of yourself!" DC grabbed America's shoulders, who only looked past him, staring into space.

* * *

"So ma'am, now that you've shown yourself, is it time?" Virginia asked as the members of the Confederacy walked out of the Capitol Building.

"Yes, it's time," Belle pulled down her hat and sneered, "Our long awaited revenge is finally upon us."

* * *

**Wow, another big player just joined the game! I did have a bit of a writer's block with this chapter, it was difficult having to somehow introduce Belle AKA the Confederacy AKA the American South as well as how meetings with states usually looking like at the same time as addressing the disappearances of Arizona and West Virginia. And yes, that right there where the states are arguing? That is American politics in a nutshell. For you non American readers, I can only tell you how fortunate it is for you to only get a glimpse of how clownish our politics can get. I can guess that your countries can also become extremely….insane when it comes to politics but America is just too much at times. It's a clown world over here. **

**There were actually two previous incarnations of the KKK before the modern one. The first one was created by a group of former Confederate officers led by General Nathan Bedford Forrest(who later actually turned against the KKK and helped destroy them), and they terrorized the recently freed black slaves and their white allies from taking political office during Reconstruction, but eventually fizzled out. The second KKK was founded in due part because of the film The Birth of a Nation, which was actually the first motion picture shown in the White House and was praised by President Woodrow Wilson. The movie also set the standard for the white hoods and massive parades, and the KKK became extremely powerful, gaining millions of members. However, due to corruption and some unsavory criminal behavior by its leaders it also collapsed. Fun fact there was also a KKK chapter in Canada as well, but that was short-lived. The most recent KKK was most prevalent in the 50s and 60s, opposing the Civil Rights movement and desegregation. They were involved in murder and terror attacks, usually aligned with the police and political establishments in the South. They're still active today, though in rather small numbers, just from around 3~8,000 members. There is some conversation about whether to designate them a "terrorist organization", though at this point they're not much more than a rabble of idiots that can't even keep their hoods on straight. **

**Dixiecrats were southern white politicians that opposed desegregation of the military in 1948. It was really short lived, and they had little to no impact really. They did use the Confederate battle flag as their party flag so there's that I guess.**

**Louisiana is part Cajun, a famous ethnic group in Louisiana. **

**Also I might start a subseries where the events that happen in this story is told from the human's perspective, by way of news. There's going to be a "personification of news" guy who's going to be telling the lore and background of what's happening to the humans while the personifications are out doing their things. I'm not too sure yet, but the idea is growing. **

**Welp, any suggestions, criticisms, and questions are always appreciated. I thank you for your continued support of this story, and until next time, Adios!**


	13. Why We Fight: Poland

**Vexey1999 and Yours The Author, thank you for the reviews!**

* * *

**1920...**

Poland was sitting on the banks of the Vistula, letting the breeze sift through his hair. He happily watched the children throw rocks into the river while the old men calmly sat and fished. Behind him, Warsaw was vibrant and alive, the capital of the newly established Second Republic of Poland.

He yawned, laying on the grass. He was tired, as he had celebrated for days on end. It was the first time he was free in more than a century, so of course he took the time to party. But now was the time to relax. He had written his constitution and had declared independence, gaining the recognition of much of the Western world which was a relief. He had also recently destroyed the invading Bolshevik armies right here on the Vistula. Now his military was pushing them back, not only saving Poland, but the rest of Europe from the horrors of communism.

Poland smirked. The other countries better repay him for his service to Europe. But even as the beast in the East was being pushed back, on the west things were getting rocky as well. The Germans, even though they lost the war they were still trying to dispute the claims on territory Poland had deemed as his, and the two were now engaged in a low-level guerrilla war over their border regions.

He could care less right now. He was just relaxing, watching the clouds float above him. Sure, Germany was refusing to accept the western border. But things would come to a pass. With France and England backing his corner, there was no way things could go bad...

* * *

**1939...**

Poland was lying on his couch, taking his daily nap when there was a sudden and frantic knocking at his door. "Come in," He said and the door to his office swung open, revealing the current president of Poland looking terrified.

Poland raised an eyebrow. "What's got you so worked up?"

President Mościcki threw a newspaper at Poland. "Have you not heard the news? We're screwed!" He exclaimed.

"Huh?" Poland grabbed the newspaper and read the headline, his face paling with terror. "No, why….how? How could this have happened? They're supposed to be enemies!"

"Oh god we're screwed, they're going to invade us at the same time!" President Mościcki began to panic, pacing around the room, "Of course we anticipated something from the Germans, but now it's obvious the Soviets would want a piece of the pie as well!"

"Sir, please shut up!" Poland stood up, crushing the newspaper. He grabbed the telephone on the side table and began turning the dial phone. "I'm going to call England and France, they'll take care of things!"

"They better," President Mościcki muttered, "Our existence depends on their help!" He hurriedly left the room, no doubt to talk to his military advisors.

"Don't worry, they're reliable!" Poland put the phone to up to his ear, grinning when he heard the Brit from the other side.

"What's up?" England asked.

"Did you hear about Germany and Russia?" Poland asked.

"Uh..yeah. Yeah I did. Molotov and Ribbentrop, right. Those buggers made an alliance with the Soviets to keep themselves out of trouble," England muttered.

"You promised to help me if war occurs."

"I know. And it seems like there's going to be war soon. Don't worry mate, France and I have your back."

Poland breathed out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness, I can't express how much I appreciate it."

He heard the Englishman scoff. "Of course. We want to put that Jerry in his place as much as you do."

"Thanks," Poland put the phone down, very reassured. He had two of the strongest countries on his side, this would be a piece of cake.

And then the war began.

Germany had invaded, and it was nothing the world has ever seen before. A combination of armor spearheads and the complete domination of the air by the Luftwaffe punched through the Polish defensive lines, throwing the entire country into chaos.

Poland sifted through reports of the losses of his airforce and army, getting more concerned by the day. He had some minor victories, but overall the situation was less than desirable. Fortunately Warsaw was fortified, so for the time he was safe.

But what he was worried about was the support he was promised. England and France had declared war on Germany as promised, but nothing substantial had happened as of yet. Not even France had invaded Germany yet. Poland sighed. What the hell was he supposed to do about this? Seeing how things are going, this war was going to end up with him on the losing side.

There was a knock at the door, and Poland told the person to come in. And in came president Mościcki. "Did you hear the news?" He asked.

Poland rolled his eyes. "What now?" He demanded.

This time, the president's eyes gleamed with delight. "They did it! The French sent an army into the Saarland!"

Poland stood up. "No way! They actually did?" He beamed, all worry dissipating. Now the Germans had to pull back much of their army to defend their western frontier! Now he had a chance to beat them back!

But a week later all hope was gone as Poland received new reports. The French had advanced 7 square kilometers before stopping. They didn't push into the exposed German flanks.

Why? It was a perfect opportunity! Poland wanted to call France and give him a piece of his mind. Here he was, fighting for his life while those two idiots sat on their butts and watched from the sidelines! What kind of allies were they?

"Kurwa!" He swore just as the building began to shake. "What the-"

Air raid sirens began to blare, indicating that the Luftwaffe was coming in full force. Poland rushed to the window to see the sky filled with German bombers, all droning towards Warsaw. He stood petrified as they began their bombing raid, dropping their payload above the city.

Explosions rocked the city, entire streets being blown into pieces. The screams of civilians jolted Poland out of his stupor, and he dashed away from the window for his own safety. Even as AA guns puffed out shell after shell, the Luftwaffe continued their raid. Poland held onto the wall as the building shook even more, and for a brief second scared that it was going to collapse.

He groaned, trying to keep his composure. He had already lost so many civilians and soldiers, and of course so much territory had been lost. He knew he couldn't last much longer, but he needed to prove that he could defend himself, even to the bitter end.

The door swung, and an adjutant stumbled in. "Urgent telegram!" He shouted.

"Give me that!" Poland snapped, snatching the telegram from the man's hands. The adjutant simply scrambled out of there while he opened up the telegram. There were only four words:

_The Soviets have invaded. _

* * *

**1944...**

For five, gruesome years Germany had occupied Poland. In those five years how many millions of his people had been exterminated and enslaved? Poland didn't know. He was hiding in the sewers, waiting for the moment to strike. To finally overthrow the Nazi yoke over his land. And it starts here, right in Warsaw.

W-Hour came, and he was out in the streets, wearing the Home Army armband and armed with a Błyskawica submachine gun. He fought street by street, slowly liberating the city from German control.

He knew that he had little chance of winning this battle. His forces would be easily overwhelmed and destroyed from the air. That was why he was hoping the Soviets would assist them in pushing the Germans out. He laughed at the irony of his situation. Having to bank on the ones you considered your enemies for centuries to help you out was a strange feeling indeed.

He looked across the Vistula, seeing the Red Army on its banks. Why weren't they coming? They had their air force and tanks that could crush the Germans without a thought. Why were they just standing there?

Realization hit him. They were waiting for the uprising to be destroyed. They didn't want to support a movement that wanted to restore the old Polish republic. No, they wanted to install a communist puppet, and the best way to do that was to let the Home Army be destroyed, letting the communists take over the power vacuum.

"Kurwa!" He shouted. Was there really no other way? What about the English and Americans? Surely they'll help! They had to!

That came in the form of air drops from the RAF, and whatever they dropped mostly ended up in German hands anyhow. Poland grew pessimistic as the days passed, yet still he fought desperately, even as the Luftwaffe and artillery pounded the liberated areas and the SS criminals rampaged across the city, murdering and raping with impudence.

Finally it happened. Poland could fight no more. He couldn't stand seeing his people suffer anymore because of his failures. The streets were piled with the dead, mostly civilians murdered in open daylight in retaliation for the uprising. The city was a shell of its former self, losing much of what it had held dear in the years before.

He was thrown into a truck with a dozen or so other prisoners. The truck drove off, leaving Warsaw. As they drove away Poland caught a glimpse of the first of the German demolition teams tearing the city down.

He couldn't help but weep for himself and everything he lost.

* * *

**1945...**

"Stop joking around with me! This can't be true!" Poland slammed his fist on the table.

"I'm sorry mate, but that's how it is," England said.

Poland glared at him. "You gave me to Russia! You know what he'll do to me!" He exclaimed, "What the hell are you thinking? What kind of an ally are you, after everything I've done to help you, this is how you repay me? You couldn't even guarantee my independence?"

"We were promised that you would be able to hold free elections," England replied coldly.

Poland scoffed. "You know damn well he's not going to honor that! Either he's going to rig them or not allow them at all! You of all people should have known this!"

England let out an exasperated groan. "What did you want me to do? Do you think we're going to fight the Soviets over you? That's suicide. It isn't worth it for anyone."

Something inside Poland snapped. His rage bubbled over and he lunged towards the Englishman, who recoiled in shock. "How dare you! Everything that's happened is your fault!" He screamed, "I went through so much, I had to endure hell believing that you'll do your job and get me out of this mess!"

A hand clasped itself on Poland's shoulder, and when he turned around all that rage turned into terror as he was staring directly up at the smiling face of Russia.

"Now now, don't be rude to our friends!" Russia said cheerfully, his grip tightening to the point it was painful.

Poland could only nod meekly, daring not to infuriate his master. He looked at England, who was just looking at him as if he was crazy.

"Come on, let's get going," Russia commanded and turned around to leave.

Poland gave England one last hateful glare. "Traitor," He spat before following Russia.

He followed Russia into a small, comfy looking room. "There, sit down Feliks," Russia suggested, "You've gone through a lot, now is the time for you to relax."

Poland sat down on the couch as asked, though he wanted to in the first place. He wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep forever. Living in a dream world sounded like the perfect remedy for the nightmarish reality he was living through.

Russia smiled. "Just sit tight for a bit, I still need to work out a few things with England and America," And with that he disappeared.

Poland was left alone with his thoughts, staring blankly at the ceiling. What was the point of being a country anymore? The sight of the smoke rising above the crematoriums were burned into his memories, as were the smell of burning corpses. He will never be able to forget what he saw, what he felt.

He began to cry. Tears streamed down his face as he released everything he held inside. He let out a wail and slammed his fist against the back of the couch.

"Feliks?" A female voice prompted Poland to look up. To his astonishment and immense relief, it was perhaps his best friend and only person he could rely on.

Hungary slid onto the couch. "Hey there sweetie, are you okay?"

Poland dove for her chest, burying himself into her. "No, no I'm not!" He sobbed, "Everyone, every last one of those bastards out there have betrayed me! Those bastards used me like a goddamn toy!"

Hungary had a sympathetic smile as she pet his hair. "I know, shhh…"

"I'll get them, I swear I will…" Poland hissed.

There was a hint of amusement on Hungary's face. "You know, there is a way to get revenge on them," She muttered.

Poland stopped crying. Did he mishear, or did she just say something outrageous?

Hungary knew he was hooked. "Look at me Feliks," She said softly, and Poland's head looked up from her chest. Hungary wiped the tears from his cheeks. "I know you suffered a lot. I suffered too, a lot of us did. We were all screwed by Germany in the end."

"I know how you feel. I'm humiliated just as much as you are. I felt abused and deceived…" she sighed. But something overcame her, and she gained a hardened look. "But that's in the past now. Even in bondage I've gotten a new chance to redeem myself. I joined up with Italy and Japan to create a movement to destroy the current world order and liberate every country that was mistreated. Like us…" she laughed sheepishly.

"A movement? What do you mean? How are you going to do that?" Poland questioned.

"A lot of questions that I'll answer," Hungary chuckled, "each of us are gathering up fellow countries that have been mistreated by the superpowers together to create the largest resistance in history. We will secretly build up our strength and prepare our people for the final fight. Against Germany, against England and against Russia."

"You mean another world war?" Poland sputtered.

Hungary nodded again. "Yes, and this time, we'll permanently destroy those that have kept us down for so long," she smirked evilly, "we have ways to kill nations permanently."

Poland looked even more shocked. "What? How?"

Hungary put her finger over his lips. "Ah ah, that's for later. But right now, I know we can help each other. You're a powerful nation, and we can help you get you back on your feet. And I know you will be invaluable for our cause…" she smiled down at him, "What do you think? Would you like to join _the Armageddon_?"

It was too easy of a decision. "I'm in," Poland said, "I'll help you destroy them." They shook hands, sealing the deal.

And so the Armageddon gained its first new member.

* * *

**Poland became an independent nation in 1918 and was immediately beset by problems. Even when they were recognized by most countries, they had border troubles, as the Germans refused to recognize their border for quite a bit, and the Bolsheviks immediately invaded. Fortunately the Poles routed the Reds at the battle of Moscow(also called the Miracle at the Vistula). After the victory over the Bolsheviks they settled down in an uneasy interwar period, managing to get themselves an alliance with the UK and France. However, things turned bad when the Germans and Soviets signed the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, which divided Eastern Europe between the two empires. Of course Poland was to be split, which was what exactly happened when the Germans invaded Poland, starting WWII. France actually did invade Germany during this time, but it was little more than a diversion. So yeah, France and Britain pretty much abandoned Poland to the Germans. **

**To put it simply, no other country had it worse than Poland during the war. Not only were the Polish people set to be exterminated, it was also the sites of six major concentration camps. All in all 5~6 million Poles were murdered, half of them Jewish. **

**Even Warsaw saw more than its fair share of carnage. From the Warsaw Ghetto uprising, where the Nazis deported the entire Warsaw Ghetto to concentration camps to the Warsaw Uprising, which saw the deaths of up to 200,000 people at the hands of such infamous Nazi units such as the Kaminski and Dirlewanger Brigades(the latter of which was led by a literal psychopath). During the uprising The Red Army stopped by the vistula river, watching shit go down and refusing the British and American requests to send aid, only reluctantly letting them do so late in the uprising which was far too little too late. After the uprising Warsaw was demolished, 85% of the city was now destroyed by the time the Red Army entered it in 1945. **

**At the end of the war, it was decided at Yalta that the USSR would have control over Poland, on the condition that it would allow free elections. Obviously that didn't happen, and Poland was forced into subservience for the duration of the Cold War. Because of this, and the betrayal by the Western Powers to Poland at the start of war, the term "Western Betrayal" was coined. This idea of Western betrayal will of course have a great deal of importance for the decisions of several nations on whether they should join the Armageddon or not. **

* * *

**So, this was the first of "Why We Fight" subseries! As you can tell, this will explore the backstories of those that fight for the Armageddon. I hope you enjoyed this, it's really fun and easy to write, it only takes a day to write up a single chapter. I will write many more, hopefully one for each member! If you would like a certain character to be explored, please leave it as a review! **

**Thank you for the continued support! Until Next time, Adios~**


	14. Why We Fight: Ukraine

**Thank you Vexey1999 and Yours The Author for the reviews!**

* * *

**1918...**

Ukraine watched the celebrations in the streets of Kiev, jubilant crowds dancing and waving the Ukrainian flag, which was flying freely for the first time in hundreds of years. For too long they were underneath the foot of oppressive empires, but that time has passed! The Russian, German and Austro-Hungarian Empires have collapsed into chaos, allowing Ukraine and many other ethnicities to take control and reclaim their birthright as a nation.

Oh, how Ukraine desperately wanted to join her people down below. But she could only watch and smile warmly, trying not to burst into a joyful dance herself. No, right now she had work to do. She looked away from the window, back to the several men who were sitting around a table. There was a stack of leaflets, the _Fourth Universal of the Ukrainian Central Council_, or to put it simply her declaration of independence to the world. England had already recognized her sovereignty, it was only a matter of time until France, the US and other powers followed suit.

"_Shche ne vmerla Ukrainy_," She hummed as she sat down to the men that made up the government of the new Ukranian People's Republic, discussing the current predicament they found themselves in. At this very moment Bolshevik Russian forces were attacking Ukraine, trying to retake her land for their own greed.

Ukraine smirked. Let them come! She's beat them before, she'll beat them again. She's had her breath of free air, and she's not willing to lose it, not so soon. She doesn't want to be oppressed anymore, especially not by _him_. No, she will fight, and she will win!

She smirked confidently. Let him try to take her freedom away. Even if he is her younger brother, no, especially because she is the eldest, she has to be in control of her own life.

* * *

**1922… **

Ukraine sat in the office room, wide eyed and shaking in her boots. Flanking her were two members of the Cheka secret police, with a portrait of Lenin hanging on the wall to her right. And most terrifying of all, in front of her was none other than her younger brother himself.

"Hello, Katyusha!" Russia joyfully exclaimed, sitting in a seat across from her. His piercing violet eyes stared at Ukraine, and she felt as if she was being frozen over. "Have you missed me?"

"Hello, Ivan…" Ukraine fidgeted, trying to avoid looking at his intense stare. There was only one reason why he was here. She knew that cold smile was anything but friendly. He was here to punish her for her insurrection against the new _Soviet Union_.

"I really missed you!" Russia giggled, "I knew I would see you again soon! I told you that your rebellion wouldn't last!"

"It wasn't a rebellion," Ukraine muttered, trying not to let him hear, "It was freedom.."

But he had heard, and his grin widened. "You tried to leave me, I can't allow that. We're one big family, we _all rely on each other_, understand?" He snapped.

Ukraine winced, curling back in her seat. "Yes…" She whimpered, holding back the urge to cry.

"That's good, that's good," Russia nodded, his maniacal grin turning into a soft smile. He shook his head, sighing. "I know you're scared, but I promise you that I'll do everything I can to make you happy, okay? I'll make sure that your language and culture remains safe."

"Really? You'd do that?" Ukraine sniffled.

Russia beamed. "Of course! You're my sister, the last thing I want is for you to feel hurt in any way."

Ukraine watched him get up from his seat and walk over to her. But listening to what he said, it was a strange feeling. She was a country no more once again, but at least this time she won't be discriminated against? He wouldn't promise something like that if he wouldn't fulfill it, would he? "Is that a promise?" She reluctantly asked.

Russia enthusiastically nodded. "It's a promise!"

Ukraine relaxed, slowly wrapping her arms around her brother's waist. He was still her brother, so of course she would trust him. She cracked a smile. Yes, Perhaps things wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

**1933…**

The entire nation was a wasteland. It was broad daylight, but Ukraine could not find a single soul outside in the village. All the doors were closed, nobody dare let out a peep. All she could find were bodies, withered up and empty, not even worthy for the hungry crows.

Ukraine herself was feeling the affects of the famine worse than the average person, feeling the entire nation be engulfed by starvation and murder. The light in her eyes were gone, as had the beautiful blush of her cheeks. Her body was broken, her once voluptuous breasts but a shadow of their former glory and her stomach frail, she had to do everything she could to not collapse on the ground. She had to go on, she had to find some food, if not for herself, at least for some of her people.

She couldn't understand why this was happening, but she knew when and how. It was those god damned Soviets, the cursed NKVD. Beginning a year ago they came in and demanded every bushel of wheat. And when they demanded all grain, _they meant it_. They ransacked houses, dragged away the intellectuals and shot the "kulaks". When the farmers hid or burned their crops, they "disappeared", no doubt sent to die in Siberia. The communists banned the language of her people, destroyed her orthodox churches and shut down her schools. It was obvious what it was; it was a war on her.

When she first saw the corpses, those that had been so cruelly murdered by starvation she cried. Seeing entire villages wiped out, the bodies littering the streets she cried. She mourned for days, weeks even. Even as she prostrated at the feet of the fat men of the NKVD, begging for mercy for her people she cried. Even as the children and elderly were buried she cried. She gave whatever food she had to those she could, and when they died she cried even more.

But she cried no more. Not that she was physically incapable of her to cry, not at all. She couldn't feel sad anymore, nor could she feel anything at all. Everything was just a simple gray. Those bodies rotting on the ground didn't bother her anymore. No more did she feel disgusted when she saw families murder and devour each other. She could only watch blankly as her people starved to extinction.

She had written to Russia, begging him for aid. All she wanted was for her grain to be kept, or at the least let her people leave this hell hole. She reminded him of his promise, that he would do whatever he could to help her.

And then his letter arrived. For the first time in months she felt a glimmer of hope, leaping and hugging the postman for his service. She retreated to her private quarters in Kiev, eagerly opening it up as if it was a parcel of food.

"_Dear Katyusha,_

_I'm sorry to inform you but I can't do anything to alleviate your situation. As you are aware, our entire Union is suffering from a lack of food. Even here in Moscow things are worse than before, so we all must make our sacrifices for the greater good. Comrade Stalin has willed it that no food go into Ukraine, lest it fuel anti-Soviet activities. He knows you are the most reluctant to be a part of our nation, so he has seen it for any unwanted elements in your society to be crushed. I really do hope you understand, this is a struggle we all face. I hope you do your part by stopping the Kulaks from hiding the grain for themselves, it'll make everything smoother for everyone. Do not worry, my dear sister, comrade Stalin will fix everything soon enough. I hope you well,_

_With all the love in the world, Ivan_"

She ripped the letter in half. _Josef. Fucking. Stalin. _He really swallowed the soviet propaganda. How could he? Her own brother! Had he really abandoned her _again_?

She let out a broken wail. She had been betrayed again. Centuries of oppression came back to the forefront of her mind. Tears welling up in her eyes as she sobbed, remembering all the atrocities she already endured. Those were nothing compared to this. This was nothing short of hell on earth.

She grabbed her temples and screamed. Russia. How could she have trusted him? How could she have been so stupid? She was still too naive, that was why she lost her freedom. She was all too willing to go back into subservience, not realizing she had signed her own death warrant.

Her wails of humiliation and despair turned to screams of unadulterated rage, as she somehow had the strength to punch a hole into the wall. She had let all previous transgressions slide. But this one, she was never going to forgive him.

She will burn all the trauma into her retinas, forever retaining them in her mind. Whenever she would have thoughts of love towards Russia, she would bring back these painful memories to remind her what he had done to her. What he forced her to go through. She would only hold hatred towards her younger brother until the day she could avenge her people. And until the this debt could be repaid in the blood of millions she would wait, hoping that his day of reckoning was near.

* * *

**1941...**

Ukraine pranced through the streets while holding the newspaper high. It had finally happened! She knew that Nazi Germany and the USSR were ideological enemies. Even as the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact was signed and her neighbor Poland was invaded, the land he had taken returned to her courtesy of Russia's own invasion of the country she hoped that one day, the one fateful day would come when the Germans would invade the Soviet Union.

And it had! As soon as she got news of the invasion she left Kiev, heading westwards towards the front lines. She crossed day and night, even risking being strafed by Stukas and Messerschmidt planes. She needed to go. She had finally found her salvation.

She reached a small village on the steppes, stepping off her bicycle to take a little rest. The villagers gave her all the food and water they had to offer, to which she graciously took some. The children were out and about, playing on the dirt roads while the adults waited anxiously.

And then from far away came the rumble of vehicles, a great cloud of dust rising over the sky. The village prepared themselves for the liberators, pulling out wreaths and baskets of food. They lined up by the roads, waiting for the convoy to reach them.

The first motorcycle reached the village, the steel helmeted men being mobbed by villagers. The tanks and trucks were next, and they too were swarmed as young maidens jumped into the arms of the Germans, putting wreaths around their necks and giving them kisses on the cheek and lips.

Ukraine joined in, wrapping her arms around the German officer. She was finally happy. They were her foreign saviors, the knights in their iron crosses and eagles, swooping into destroy the Communist scourge still occupying her land.

She knew Germany was a reasonable man, they were always quite fond of one another. She was in his debt, and she promised that she would do whatever she could to support him in this valiant crusade.

One soldier was passing out German flags, and she eagerly grabbed one, proudly waving the Swastika flag. "Hail Germany!" She shouted. She knew that the future was finally bright again.

* * *

**1944...**

How many times had she been deceived these past decades? Ukraine didn't know, nor did she care anymore. All she knew that she could trust nobody any longer. All of her neighbors wanted her dead.

Germany had broken his promises. There was no free Ukraine, just a _Reichskommissariat Ukraine_, ruled by Germans. How many millions of her people had he murdered? She couldn't know, but she could most definitely feel her population going down, murdered in cold blood by SS execution squads. He had also taken hundreds of thousands of her people back to Germany to work as foreign labor, leaving her with barely anything to use for her own benefit.

She had sent him letters begging for him to at the very least loosen his grip on her. But he said no, it was the Fuhrer's will. And so the executions and pillaging continued, the Nazi's iron occupation bleeding Ukraine dry.

And Ukraine couldn't do anything about it. She looked at her German uniform, a patch with the yellow and blue of her national colors shabbily sewn on the sleeve. She had no real choice, did she? She had to support the German war effort, lest the Soviets return. But now she didn't know who was worse, and if a Soviet return was a bad thing anymore.

She lit a cigarette as she watched a procession of Jews be walked into a truck, no doubt to be taken to Poland. They were her people, and yet she let them be taken away to be murdered. What could she do? Stop them? It was their mission to make every territory jew free, and if the communists were all Jews, then what did it matter to her?

She shook her head. All of this was just grinding her down. Of course she cared about all of her people, whether they were Christian or Jewish. She couldn't pick and choose who to save, it would just make her as evil as Germany and Russia. To realize that such thoughts even entered her mind proved to her just how numb she was becoming.

She saw a picture of Hitler hanging from one of the walls of the public square. _Hitler the Liberator?_ "What a joke," She snorted and spat on the ground. One devil replaced by another was not liberation.

She sighed. She could barely remember the excitement of independence three decades ago. When would she ever be happy like that again? She didn't know anymore, for all she knew this dreary life of hers was just one of unending suffering.

There was commotion down the street, and she turned her head to see people running around, yelling at the top of their lungs. Even the German soldiers looked frantic, which intrigued her more than anything.

She jogged down the street, pushing past the forming crowd and towards the source of the voice, which turned out to be a paper boy. "Hey there, what's going on?" She asked, smiling sweetly.

The boy looked up at her, his large eyes brimming with excitement. "The Russians are coming!"

* * *

**1945...**

Ukraine was sitting alone in the room, trying to process what she had gone through. Germany was defeated, and she was once more in the hands of her brother. Was that a blessing, or a curse? She didn't know anymore. Only one thing was certain; there was no hope.

There was a knock at the door, and it slowly opened to reveal Russia and Belarus. Ukraine and Belarus made eye contact, both of them having hollowed out eyes, with the former even losing her scary edge. They were sisters that went through everything together, even occupation.

Russia noticed how disheveled she was. "Sister," He said.

"Ivan…." Ukraine whispered.

"Katyusha!" Russia rushed over to Ukraine, hugging her tightly, "I'm so sorry I had to leave you behind sister! You must have gone through hell, didn't you?"

Ukraine coughed. "Yeah…" She forced herself to smile.

"Don't worry, everything is okay now," Russia whispered, "I'm here for you."

He kissed her cheek and stood up. "If you need anything just let me know," He smiled at her. It was a smile filled with kindness, something Ukraine had been lacking for years. But she couldn't trust that face. Not anymore.

Russia waved at her and left the room. Belarus looked lost, glancing towards Russia before running to Ukraine and giving her a tight squeeze. "I'm glad you're okay," She said.

"You too Natalia," Ukraine wheezed. Belarus let go, making her way towards Russia and leaving Ukraine alone.

Time passed, and still she remained in the room. She didn't want to move, she didn't want to leave her new sanctuary. The world outside was scary and ruthless. She wanted to remain safe, and if she left this room that would be taken away from her as well.

The door slowly opened again, and this time the head of Poland poked through, giving both nations quite the scare. They jumped up, staring at each other.

"Poland…" Ukraine said.

"Ukraine…" Poland gulped, "Didn't know you were in here…"

Ukraine nodded. "Yeah, sorry…"

Poland shook his head. "No no, it's fine," He looked away from her.

The tension in the room was so thick one could cut it with a knife. The two stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say. Of course, their relationship since the beginning of the century has been extremely rocky at best, violent at worst, and now they're both under Russian management. So whether they liked it or not, they were going to be seeing each other a lot more.

Ukraine knew as much, but didn't know what to say. The only thing she could do was start crying.

"Whoah, hey what?" Poland's jaw dropped as the tears bubbled out of Ukraine's eyes, "Hey, what's wrong?" He walked into the room and sat down next to her.

Ukraine frantically wiped her eyes, but the waterworks kept on coming. "Everything! My life has been in a constant hell, Russia, Germany and now Russia again! I can't ever escape this loop of misery!" She sobbed.

Poland bit his lip. "I-I'm sorry to hear that," He looked away guiltily, "I'm sorry for abandoning you in 1920. It was the only way I could secure my eastern flank. I didn't think they would do such horrible things to you, I feel awful-"

"That's the least offensive thing that someone did to me!" Ukraine laughed bitterly, "Sure, you were independent for a few years, but was it really worth it?"

"I-" Poland looked like he was in thought for a bit, before returning his gaze to Ukraine, "Yeah, I think it was."

Ukraine swallowed a sob. "I never experienced it, I lost my happiness too long ago," She coughed, allowing Poland to put her head on his shoulder, "I don't know what to do anymore."

"Ukraine, what if I told you you will taste freedom?" Poland asked.

Ukraine looked at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Liberty, Ukraine. Freedom from all tyranny. No stronger nation to bully you anymore," Poland's eye sparked as he talked, "You'll be free to do whatever you desire!"

Ukraine shook her head. "You really are an optimist, heard so much from Russia," She chuckled a little, "but please, don't give me false promises. I've heard enough of those in my life."

"I'm being serious," Poland looked deadly serious for once. Even his voice lost its bounciness as he talked. "I'm part of a small group of countries that are planning to overthrow the current world order."

"What?" Ukraine said, taken aback by the statement.

Poland nodded. "Yeah. Countries like you and me, who've been abused and betrayed by the world powers. We've had enough of being used like toys. We're going to stand up and fight for the respect and freedoms we deserve."

"A-and how will we do that?" Ukraine pressed.

Poland smirked. "We're going to start a world war. And not only is it people that's going to die, but also entire nations will be wiped out," He glanced at Ukraine, "Russia being one of them."

Ukraine felt something flutter in her heart. "Kill them? As in like, permanently?"

"Yeah! There we go, you're getting it!" Poland laughed. Ukraine joined in the laughter, and the two laughed for minutes on end.

Ukraine wiped the tears of joy from her eyes. "So what's this group called?"

"The Armageddon," Poland answered.

Ukraine whistled, "Wow, that is a…..ominous name," She giggled, "how many members are there?"

"Well, besides Japan, Italy and Hungary not much. But each of them are recruiting within their own spheres! Hungary is recruiting members within the Communist sphere, Japan in Asia and Italy in the West and Africa, and they are gaining members by the day! There are so many countries that feel the same way as us, Katyusha!" Poland squawked excitedly.

Ukraine's heart did another flutter when she heard Poland say her human name. It was so strange, coming from him. But it made her feel good inside. "Say it again.." She mumbled.

"Huh?" Poland asked, now being the one to be confused.

"Say my name!" Ukraine playfully demanded.

"Uh….Katyusha?" Poland repeated. Ukraine giggled and cuddled closer to him. Poland's face turned red. "What?" He stammered.

"Mmm, Feliks," Ukraine swooned, "I want to join the Armageddon."

Poland grinned as he blushed even more furiously. "I thought so! I'll tell Hungary if you want me to!"

"I'll tell her myself," Ukraine giggled. War, huh? She thought she was tired of it. But this time, it was for _her _sake. The fact that there were others like her didn't even cross her mind until just now. And if they all gathered up strength, perhaps, just perhaps they would have a chance!

She nuzzled into Poland's neck, who let out a little squeak. "Thank you Feliks, for giving me hope," She kissed him on the cheek.

"Oh...don't worry about it," Poland's face was beet red now. Ukraine hummed peacefully as she lay next to Poland. This time for sure there was a light at the end of the tunnel. It wouldn't be easy, and it's not guaranteed to win, but it's still a chance. And it's one hell of a chance she's willing to take.

* * *

**Ukraine as an independent nation first appeared in the wake of the First World War and Russian Civil War, when the Ukranian People's Republic was born in 1918(there was also a West Ukrainian People's Republic but that doesn't really matter right now lol) and was immediately beset by invasion by the Bolsheviks, who set up their own Soviet republic in Ukraine. Eventually, due to Ukraine's own political and military weaknesses as well as Poland and the Bolsheviks signing a peace treaty, allowing the latter to focus their forces on Ukraine. However, even as Ukraine was absorbed into the USSR, Lenin allowed the Ukrainian language and culture to flourish, giving Ukraine a little bit of a respite. **

**But once Stalin became the premier of the USSR, things quickly turned from a renaissance to a nightmare. He arrested the ****Intelligentsia of Ukraine, shut down schools and banned the Ukrainian Orthodox Church, even banned the use of the Ukrainian language, deeming it all as "kulak". **

**His worst atrocity against Ukraine is no doubt the Holodomor, the man-made famine in Ukraine. Though this was part of the wider Soviet famines, the Holodomor was worsened as it was used by Stalin to crush the Ukrainian nationalist movement. The NKVD was sent in to requisition all grain in the country, executing and deporting all that were deemed "kulaks", the term now applying to any Ukrainian. The borders were closed, barring anything and anyone from either going in or out. In all, estimates for those that died range from 3 million all the way to 12 million. Whatever the true numbers may be, it is considered a genocide by Ukraine and 15 other nations, and even to this day has had an impact on Ukraine's demographics and politics. **

**These actions caused many Ukrainians to view the Soviet Union with hostility, and saw the invading Germans in 1941 as liberators, with many Ukrainians joining the Wehrmacht and Waffen-SS or creating auxiliary police units to support the occupation. However, the Germans were no better than the previous overlords, enacting their genocidal policies in the region. In the three years that the Reichskommissariat Ukraine existed, some 5 million Ukrainians(including at least 1 million Jews) died under German rule. When the USSR returned to Ukraine, many of those that had collaborated with the Germans were persecuted, either killed or sent to the gulags. **

**So yeah, Ukraine went through a very very rough time. This'll be a sort of a pattern for the other Eastern European countries, chiefly that they suffered because of Germany and Russia. No wonder why she joined, she got screwed over one too many times. That'll also be a pattern for the Eastern Europeans in particular.**

* * *

**Yep, this time it's Ukraine. This was actually the first one I wrote, but I felt like Poland was more suited to be the first one to be recruited into the Armageddon. And this one in my opinion is one of the sadder backstories for the members of the Armageddon, as she had only the most minimal of freedom within her time as nothing more than a vassal state for hundreds of years. So in turn, she will become one of the more radical members of the Armageddon, ready to return the centuries of oppression she suffered onto those same oppressors. It won't be a pretty sight. **

**Okay, now I'm going to work on the regular chapters once more. If there's any member of the Armageddon you want to be explored, please let me know! Thank you for your continued support, I really do appreciate it! So until next time; ciao ciao~**


	15. Another One Bites the Dust

**Thank you Yours The Author for the review!**

* * *

The whole world watched in horror as the United States of America, once the most powerful nation on the globe suddenly fractured into two. Everybody knew the economic and political consequences immediately. But nobody, save for a few, truly understood the danger this split posed to the world.

* * *

"Bloody hell!" England exclaimed as he watched the tv. Sealand sniggered at this outburst, as it was common for the Brit to lash out while watching the BBC. But this time, the teacup England held slipped out of his hand, shattering the porcelain cup on the carpet. Now that was a rare sight, and Sealand knew something was up.

"What happened?" Sealand asked, walking over to the tv.

England swore as he looked down at the tv, lamenting the loss of his tea and the defilement of his living room carpet. He didn't notice Sealand, who continued to ask questions until he finally looked up. "What do you want?" His usually sarcastic tone now had a twinge of anger mixed into it.

"Did something happen on tv?" Sealand asked again.

England scowled and looked at the screen, before turning back to Sealand. "The damn South, seceding from America _again_. She's one persistent girl, but it's going to mess things up for the rest of us."

"South?" Sealand tilted his head.

England sighed. "Didn't I teach you about geography? How much storage does that pea brain of yours even use?" He ignored Sealand's anguished cries and stood up to grab the old globe on the shelf, the one which the modern names of countries were scribbled hastily over their former colonial names.

He put the globe on the tea table, spinning it to the American continent. "Here's America, that buffoon.." He muttered, before pointing to the South eastern portion of the country, "Now, you see the state of Virginia? Every state below Virginia and east of Texas is considered 'the South'. Now, in the 1860s, the 11 seceded from America, forming the Confederate States of America."

"Ooooh," Sealand nodded.

"Yup, and the South had its own personification as well. She was America's younger sister, and she was…..much more refined than him. That was until the Civil war…." England grumbled.

"So what happened to her?" Sealand questioned, his curiosity further increasing.

England sighed. "We thought she died from the war, but apparently not!" He finished the sentence with an aggravated tone.

"Is her being alive bad?" Sealand asked.

"Yes, it is. She caused a lot of suffering during her existence. She used slavery as her main economic institution and also had plans to invade Central America and the Caribbean. Fortunately she was defeated before that could be achieved," He bit his lip, trying to think, "How did she survive? Wouldn't he have felt her presence? And why did she decide to act now?" He sucked on his pipe, thinking hard. There were too many weird things about this. Was it a coincidence that this happened right after Russia fell into a civil war? He knew something was fishy, but just couldn't connect the dots.

There was a knock on the door, and England ignored it, as it was Sealand that scuttled off to see who was at the front. Sure enough, he heard the energetic boy's voice shout out "Ah, Ireland you idiot!"

Ireland? Why was he here? England groaned and got up from his chair, wincing when his hips made an unwanted noise. "Ah, bloody-"

"Hey there Arty!" Ireland's round face poked out from the hallway, a look of concern overcoming him when he saw England groaning with his hands on his hips, "You alright there?"

"Yeah yeah, I'm fine," England grimaced and sat back down, the pressure in his body relieved again.

"The hell happened to your carpet?" Ireland glanced at the spilled tea on the floor.

England glared at him. "Never mind that. Why'd you come?"

"Ah come on, we're neighbors. What's wrong with dropping by?" Ireland took a look at the tv and whistled. "Oh, worried about your baby boy?"

England's face turned bright red. "N-no! I was just wondering how it would affect my economy!"

"That's what Japan would call a tsundere!" Sealand said. He scampered off before England could yell a profanity at him.

"That kid…" England muttered. He grabbed a broom and dustpan and began sweeping the pieces of the broken teacup while lamenting his carpet. "This was my favorite…"

"Ah, this isn't the first time you've dropped some tea, right….?" Ireland questioned, and England slowly turned his face away.

"That's not important. America and Russia are crumbling apart, and it's no doubt going to throw the entire world into chaos," England said as a matter of fact.

Ireland looked like he agreed. "Who knows what'll happen now. If things continue other countries might follow that path. And let's not forget China will no doubtedly take advantage of this situation."

England's face darkened. He knew the dire circumstances they were now in. "The first thing we need to do is call a world meeting. As immediately as possible." Yes, this was the best and quite frankly only logical course of action. He hoped that the rest of the world understood the situation as well. He knew Germany would, while France, who knows.

Ireland watched England brood to himself, before flicking his eyes towards the tv, still showing news from America. The South really seceded? If that was true, then things really were dire. He had seen the woman in battle himself, having helped America fight in the Civil War. If she was stronger than before...he shuddered. He wished America all the luck he had, though on second thought maybe that wasn't the best thing.

But something else nagged at him. Something that told him this development was a positive one. This was part of a larger series of events he wasn't aware of. But to be truthful, he wasn't aware of a lot of things. He was mostly concerned with his own backyard, about what England and Northern Ireland were doing. Yeah, he had international relations, but those two were always at the forefront of his mind.

America was one of his closest friends, and seeing him fall from grace like that would usually leave a bad taste in his mouth. But this time, for some strange reason he couldn't put his finger on, it gave him hope.

* * *

It was strange to see France and Germany sitting in the same room in a civil manner, but there they were, both looking exhausted.

"Christ, I can't believe the South seceded again," France grumbled. His usually carefully maintained hair and clothes were unkempt, and his goatee was more visible than usual.

Germany groaned. "On top of everything that's happening, that has to happen!" he shouted. He had bags underneath his eyes, and he repeatedly had to fix his glasses. He grabbed his umpteenth cup of coffee, devouring it in seconds. "Belarus has cut herself off from the rest of the world, we still have Russia's civil war to deal with, and now this!? What the hell is going on here?"

"I have no idea," France sighed. He tried to grab a cup of coffee, but when he reached out there was a loud crack in his elbow. He retreated, holding his elbow and emitting a pained yelp.

Germany slid France the coffee pot, who snatched it and began drinking from it. "Hey!" He exclaimed.

France slammed the empty pot down and wiped his mouth. "Something is fishy here, Ludwig. Something very strange is going on."

"I agree. There are too many curious events to call it all a coincidence. Wait, did you just call me by my na-" Germany blankly stared at France.

France ignored that and continued. "We don't know what's happening behind the Eastern curtain. We can only assume Belarus joined them, but the specifics are unknown, as is their motive and objective in this international fallout."

"Who knows, maybe they knew Russia was going to fall into a civil war in the first place-" Germany's eyes widened in realization, "What if they're somehow related to the Russian Civil War?"

France slammed the coffee pot. "That would make absolute sense! Russia's been meddling in their affairs since the Cold War, it's only natural they would want to in return!"

"Did they have a hand in the terrorist attacks?" Germany pondered, "And how could this be in any way tied to the American secession?"

France shook his head. "We have no real ties except for the fact that both Russia and America are experiencing a full on revolt from their regions. What our top priority should be is to stop any other potential civil war to happen, while also investigating the source of both problems. We may believe something bigger is at hand, but unless we find something."

"When were you ever this deductive?" Germany asked.

"Oh come on, you've never doubted my abilties, have you?" France chuckled, stealing a glance towards the German. But upon seeing his unamused face he frowned. "Don't tell me you thought less of me…"

"I won't gratify you with an answer," Germany said coldly, and the Frenchman slumped on the table. Germany did know France was more than capable of thinking on his own, but it was fun to tease his former nemesis at times. It was too funny to watch the man flounder.

But he didn't show it on his face. "No doubt England will agree with me here, but we'll need to call in a world meeting, and immediately at that. This is a grave situation we're all facing right now."

"We should also better call America," France added, still recovering from Germany's remarks, "We can only hope he isn't taking this too terribly."

"He's probably having a mental breakdown," Germany said, "This is America we're talking about."

"You're right," France sighed. America wasn't very good with dealing with sudden pressure. He was prone to act on emotion, which only escalated things even more. He hoped that the American wouldn't do something rash, but that was only a fleeting wish.

* * *

Brazil was lounging on his couch, lazily watching tv. He had promised that witch Argentina that they would go out and get some drinks and play a round of soccer or two, but decided that listening to her arrogant boasting all day wasn't worth it. She could bother Chile or Paraguay, but he wasn't in the mood for her superiority complex.

The warm breeze wafted gently into the room, and he rolled over on the couch. He was just wearing some cargo shorts, showing off his chiseled chest. With that and the wisp of a goatee, he was not a man to be looked over. Adding to that was the array of guns stacked by the wall, showing just how ready for a fight he was. Of course, when crime and corruption was so high of course he had to be prepared for any scenario.

But the scenario playing out on tv, that was completely out of the blue. When news of the Southern secession came on the news, Brazil perked up. He sat up and listened intently to the newsman explaining how the Southern states had left the country to reform the Confederate States of America.

He grabbed a water bottle and did a double take, choking and coughing up his drink. "You've got to be kidding me. She actually did it. Belle, that crazy girl. I didn't think she was actually going to do it…" He shook his head, "I wish she would have told me beforehand, would've made my life a hell of a lot easier…" He sighed and finished his water. He stood up, grabbing a shirt to throw on. Maybe he will meet up with Argentina. Between her and Belle, he didn't know who was worse.

* * *

"How dare she!" America roared, slamming his fist against the wall, creating a hole in his living room. "How could they do this to me?"

"Calm down Alfred!" Bian pulled him back from the wall, pushing onto the sofa. She held the enraged man's face in an attempt to calm him down. "I know you're mad, but-"

"But what?" America growled, and Bian winced. She's never seen him so angry before, and she's been there through some of his worst times. But Belle was America's worst nightmare, she knew as much from the stories he told of the Civil War. The worst period of his life was now coming back to him in full force, which she understood fully.

"You've beaten her before, and you can definitely beat her again," Bian pointed out. That was also true. Belle has only her 11 states to rely on, the same as the first civil war. But America had become much stronger from then. "There's no way she can defeat the strongest country in the world."

"You're right, but at the same time I'm not so sure," America curled up on the couch. Bian sat next to him, putting her hand on his head. "She's been hiding in the shadows for a century, just biding her time to get back at me. I was stupid for not realizing it sooner! I thought this whole time it was just the Southern states that were acting out all these years, not being coordinated from her! She's stronger than last time, I know that for certain as well."

"We have allies we can rely on," Bian insisted.

America looked even more worried. "She said she has allies helping her as well. And apparently they hate my guts. I couldn't tell if she was bluffing or not…"

"Even if she does, you have much stronger friends than she ever has. If worse comes to worse, you can defeat them quickly in an invasion, and they possibly can't take you and all of your states on at the same time."

"Who knows what kind of connections she made while she was in hiding," America groaned.

"It doesn't matter, you'll be able to deal with them in a short manner. You've already taken action, haven't you?"

America nodded. "Yup. I've recalled all troops deployed overseas and activated the national guard."

"Good. If we can consolidate and move before they can act, it'll all be over," Bian smiled. She kissed America on the forehead and stood up. "Want me to make some tea?"

America's cheeks flushed. "Thank you, that'll be great. The stuff you make really helps me with my nerves."

Bian giggled and bounced to the kitchen to heat some water up. "Don't worry about it. Anything for you! You've beaten her before, and you'll beat her again with even better odds!"

America grinned and laid down on the couch. The doubts in him were evaporating after her encouraging words. She was right, Belle was bluffing. Even if she had an army of some kind, it wouldn't stand a chance against his military, much less his entire population. If things come to a standstill, he wouldn't mind having to march down to Georgia again. This time, he wouldn't pull any punches. He'll make sure Belle would be defeated for good.

* * *

Belle crossed her legs and propped them on her mahogany desk, looking at her states in front of her. Many of them were relieved that they had finally freed themselves from America's grasp, chatting and laughing nonchalantly. Some of them were still very worried about the future.

"We actually did it, my god…" North Carolina whimpered, cradling his head, "He's going to crush us like a bunch of gnats."

South Carolina, being the older sister, slapped him on the back. "Stop being such a wuss! What happened to your manliness!" North Carolina shriveled into a ball, not wanting to suffer anymore abuse from her.

"God, that felt good telling him off!" Mississippi giggled. She pulled out a case of beers and began passing them out.

Louisiana grabbed a can and opened it. "We should still be wary. He won't wait long to make his move."

"Don't worry about it," Virginia waved his hand, "he's no doubtedly scrambling to assemble his forces, while we have everything we need right nere."

"That's true," Arkansas added, sitting on the chair across Belle, "We have everything prepared. They're caught off guard right now, this is our chance to strike."

Belle laughed, opening her beer. "Everyone's right here. Alfred won't take this lying down. But you know what? This time he's in for the biggest treat of his life. We're going to strike while the iron's still hot," She stood up, raising her can in the air, "To the coming victory. To the Confederate States of America!" The 11 states raised their beers into the air and all chugged their drinks down.

"Haah! That was nice!" Florida crushed the can and threw it in the trash can, grabbing another and drinking that one in a manner of seconds as well.

All the other states laughed, letting the alcohol settle inside of them. "Hell yeah! Let's get wasted!" Georgia shouted. The other states shouted in agreement.

Virginia looked to Belle. "Will that be alright?" He asked.

Belle rolled her eyes. "Sure, why not. We're all in the mood. Let's celebrate this momentous occasion," She reached her hand out, and Virginia chuckled and handed her another beer. She took a sip when from the corner of her eye saw a man leaning at the doorway, watching everyone drinking. "Hold up." She got up and walked towards the man.

She stepped outside of the room, eyeing the elderly Asian man who looked like he was judging her himself. "Hey, Japan's guard dog. Are you keeping an eye on us to make sure we don't step out of line?"

The man frowned. "When you put it like that it makes me seem like the bad one. I was just concerned that if you all party now you won't be able to act later."

Belle burst into laughter, causing the man to look on with shock. Belle wiped the tears from her eyes and put a hand on his shoulder. "Unlike you Asians we can handle alcohol. Don't you worry, we may have hangovers in the morning but we'll still do our part."

The man didn't look any less concerned. "You Americans should stop partying all the time and actually take things seriously," He chastised.

Bellie made a mock scowl at him, before slapping him on the back. "And you need to take things less seriously. Like I've told you, we've got this in the bag."

The man nodded. "Fine. But when you find America, you need to bring him to me _alive_. Japan and the others want to return to him all the pain he caused them," He ordered.

The scowl on Belle's face became less joking, her eyes narrowing. "Fine," She spat out, pulling her hand off of him. But she quickly reverted back to being jovial, growing a mocking smile at him. "Alright, if that's all you wanted you can go back to Japan, Niko Niko Ni~" She let the last part hang as she went to rejoin her comrades, leaving the micronation flustered and upset.

* * *

North Korea watched the news with anticipation, grinning wildly when America's secession finally came up. She had with her a bottle of wine, popping it open when it finally came up. It had finally happened. Her archnemesis of 70 years, the source of so much of her misery was finally collapsing in on himself! It was all thanks to Belle, but to see it happen with her own eyes, it truly brought out emotions she hadn't felt in so long.

And now this gave her the chance to enact her part of the grand plan. She looked over to the map of Korea, that cursed line still dividing her from her brother. But soon that line would be removed, and they would be together once again. Her brother, who was brainwashed by America to despise her, would be unable to resist her anymore.

She had already mobilized her armies in preparations for an invasion of the South. There would be nobody to stop her this time. She was probably stronger than South this time as well, as she had hidden the true strength of her military to the world. The fact that they really believed she still relied on weapons from the 50s and 60s was laughable and pathetic. They really were that arrogant! Yes, she had obsolete tanks in service. That was a front; she really did have thousands of modern tanks and aircraft in secret storage, with trained crew to use them. She had guns the equivalent of South, and she already publicly had the largest army in the world. They don't even know the true extent of her fighting abilities, but they'll find out soon.

She was trembling with excitement. She wished Hong Kong was here to hold her, though she knew it would probably escalate from that. Not that that was wrong, she wanted it. But no, he was back in his city, ready to escalate world tension even more. She knew what he had to do was important so didn't want to bother him with a phone call or a text. They would both do their part and then rejoice together afterwards.

Finally, North Korea was no more going to be the laughingstock of the world. Now they would fear the true might of her country. But it would be too late for any of them to repent. They laughed at her. Now she would laugh at them as they drowned in their own fiery arrogance.

* * *

The battle in Moscow has been raging for about a week now, and still Russia and his companions were holed up in the Kremlin complex. Many times they tried to break out, but they were stopped by the rebel forces everytime, being forced to hole themselves back up in the ancient fortress. The skies above the Russian capital were completely black from the smoke and clouds of debris, blocking off the sun. Missiles still flew across the sky, destroying the city block by block. Nowhere was safe as the inner city and even the residential suburbs were torn to pieces, becoming the battleground between the military, police and insurgent forces. Not even civilians were safe as they were slaughtered in the streets, both accidental and premeditated. It was safe to assume that tens of thousands of civilians and combatants had been killed in this war.

Russia stood on the Beklemishevskaya Tower, silently watching the battle below him. Infantry engaged each other from across the Bolshoy Moskvoretsky Bridge while a column of T-90 MBTs crossed. A Mil Mi-24 Hind attack helicopter flew above the bridge, strafing the tanks before a rocket slammed into its side, sending it careening into the Moskva River.

What could he do about it? He was stuck behind enemy lines, Tatarstan made sure of it, that witch. Why she hadn't attacked the Kremlin ever since the first day of the battle, he hadn't got a clue. Perhaps it was to wear him down, to make him watch his city to the ground in despair. She was doing everything she could to make his life a living hell, and it was working.

He left the tower, wandering towards the State Kremlin Palace, which was turned into a temporary field hospital. On his way there he passed through the Taynitsky Garden, where seven crosses stood, surrounded by ornate flowers.

Tver, Bryansk, Ivanov, Kaluga, Oryol, Penza, Ryazan. He still couldn't believe that they, his family were all forever gone. They were cruelly murdered by those callous traitors. Russia's fury grew as he stared at the crosses. They didn't deserve it. They were innocent. Tatarstan and her gang were going to meet a fate much worse than death, Russia promised to himself. Yes, that was something he was very good at.

He glanced towards a cross a bit further from the rest of the group. Altai Krai, a fallen enemy combatant, was buried under there. Though he was an enemy, Russia felt that he would have regretted it had he not buried him. He was still family after all.

After giving the dead a moment of silence he hurried back to the State Kremlin Palace. There rows upon rows of wounded humans were being treated. Among them were Ulyanovsk, Pskov, Saratov and Moscow, who all looked up from their makeshift cots once they saw Russia.

"How are you all doing?" Russia asked, smiling warmly at the wounded, or rather with the exception of Moscow formerly dead regions.

Ulyanovsk lazily gave him a thumbs up. "I think I can feel most of my body now," He croaked.

Pskov groaned. "My neck is still stiff," he complained.

"I hear ya," Saratov grunted, turning her head from side to side, "I feel like sometimes I can twist my neck all the way around now, like an owl."

Russia chuckled. "I'm happy to see that you're all in good health!" He exclaimed.

"I don't know if 'good health' is the right term," Ulyanovsk pointed out.

"You're getting better," Russia corrected himself, still smiling. It was good to see them talk that way, it meant that they were feeling better.

He turned to Moscow, who so far hasn't said anything. Even though she was the only one that hasn't been killed, she by far had gotten the worst of everything. The battle in the city has taken a physical toll on her body.

"Moscow.." Russia sat down next to her, holding her hand.

Moscow smiled faintly. "Russia. You look tired, you should get some rest," She murmured.

"Nyet, I have work to do," Russia replied, "If I sleep, who will watch over everyone?"

"You will collapse at the most crucial part," Moscow grimaced.

"Don't worry about me," Russia insisted. She could be right about him, but now really wasn't the time for him to rest. He needed to watch the battle to seize any opportunity for a counterattack.

"Oh, and I have something for you," Moscow continued, "This might be related to what's going on here."

That piqued Russia's interest. "And what is that?" He questioned.

"The Confederate States of America seceded from the United States," Moscow told him, handing him a newspaper, "There's bound to be a civil war in America soon."

Russia looked over the paper, his hands trembling as he gave it back to Moscow. He closed his eyes, trying to think. He cracked a smile and laughed wryly.

"Russia?" Moscow stared at him.

"Oh, I just find it ironic that the one person who would be dancing with joy at the state of affairs I'm in would also find himself in the same predicament," Russia explained, "I thought that maybe he would support the rebels. Now he has to deal with his own. What a situation we've been put in."

"Do you feel bad for him?"

Russia shrugged. "Not necessarily, but I do hope that he does come out alright," he sighed and looked out the window, watching the countless plumes of smoke rise into the clouds, "I just hope things don't get any worse for any of us…"

* * *

China laid lazily on his bed, munching on some rice crackers as he watched America fall apart on live tv. He didn't know how to feel about it; he felt pretty close to America in his own opinion. He knew how it felt to be in a split apart and was sympathetic to his Western friend. But he also found himself in a new position he could exploit…

America and Russia, his two biggest competitors on the international stage were now facing internal troubles, and would probably focus on them instead of him. That meant he could now do whatever he pleased with little repercussion. Sure, there was South Korea and Japan, but they would not be able to do anything without America's help. Which left China the sole power in charge of Asia and the Pacific.

He couldn't help but laugh to himself a little. It was cruel, but it was quite a godsend that America fall into his crisis right as he was getting on his ass about trade deals and the South China Sea. Now he wouldn't have to try and justify himself to the world about his rightful territory!

He wanted to call some of his close friends over as a small celebration, but then realized that most of them actually liked America. Hong Kong for example, he was a huge American fanboy. And Taiwan. Even though she's his student, she's been more close to Japan and America than himself recently.

He huffed. Maybe now they'll appreciate him again once America becomes weak! He'll protect them like in the old days, against the other powers that'll want to regain their colonies of the past. Of course this'll also mean he'll be able to become even stronger than before, so nobody will be able to challenge his authority! Not the least Japan. Oh, Japan without America's protection will be so fun to bully. It was only fair after everything Japan's done to him.

He pulled out a bottle of wine to celebrate. America and Russia will be fine, they'll just be a bit weakened, nothing was seriously in danger. He was going to maybe call Macau and have a few drinks before planning what to do next. Who knows, maybe he could even support the rebels in Russia and America, putting him in a position of power in their own turf! Or maybe help them himself, thus putting them in a state of debt to him. Now that was a move worthy of being 3d chess. There were too many opportunities to explore, China couldn't wait to look at them all!

* * *

Japan gazed at the streets of Tokyo from his towering apartment. He had a feeling China was celebrating these recent events.

Fine, let him gloat for a bit, he deserves it. It would make what would happen to him be even more enjoyable to Japan and the rest of the Asian countries in the Armageddon. Yes, China had his fate planned out, and it was to be even worse than America and Russia combined. Oh, it going to be brutal and terrible, just how Japan liked it.

He heard Taiwan stir from the bed, walking over to her. "Good morning, Mei," He bent down and kissed her.

Taiwan nuzzled and kissed him back. "Good morning Kiku," She purred, putting her head on his chest.

Japan smiled sweetly, holding her head and petting her hair. "How are you today?"

Taiwan yawned. "I'm feeling great!" She exclaimed. Her body shook and she huddled closer to Japan. "But even though I knew about it beforehand, seeing America fall did kinda make me sad. He was a pretty good friend to me..."

"Don't. He deserves it," Japan scoffed. He pulled her out of the bed and she emitted a sound as she was pulled out the comfort of the covers. Making a pouting face she scooped up her clothes and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

When she saw Japan follow she let out a small snicker. "What, do you want to join?" She asked.

Japan shook his head. "Not this time, sorry." Taiwan rolled her eyes and jumped into the shower, quickly turning it on and filling the bathroom with warm steam. Japan stood by the door, not really caring if she cared about privacy, because in truth, neither of them were uncomfortable with each other.

"Mei, remember that you have an early flight back to Taipei," Japan told her.

"I know!" She called back from within the shower, "Why do you think I'm happy!"

"Oh, I thought it was because you were in my arms," Japan taunted.

"No no, that was the last thing I was thinking about," Taiwan retorted.

"What, were you in China's arms?"

"Ew, gross no way!" Taiwan shrieked, "He has such a weird teacher complex. He always talking like 'don't worry, Sensei will take care of this!' or 'Why did you stop calling me sensei? It was so cute!'. Does he have a teacher student complex?"

"Come on, you know I do," Japan responded, and he could imagine Taiwan's cheeks flush red.

"You have a lot of complexes, so it's not that weird compared to the others…" Taiwan trailed off.

Japan noticed the sudden decrease of energy. "Is something up?" He asked.

"Uh….." Japan heard her fumbling around, "Are you sure you don't want to join me? Not before a big mission?" Her voice sounded like she really wanted him to join her.

Japan sighed. She was right. She had to go back to her country to prepare for the next move. Hong Kong, North Korea and Zaitou were already at their positions, waiting for his signal to execute the massive attack. Why wouldn't he spend some time with his lover before they got to work? Once they begin, who knows the next time he'll be able to relax, so he'll take his chance now. Besides, he was hyped for what was coming soon. China and South Korea can rest easy for now, but when they wake up they'll see their world in ashes.

* * *

**Hello everyone, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. College classes are starting this Thursday so I'm going to be busier, but I hope that won't make a dent into writing this story, as I'm really enjoying it. I was also affected by allergies so I had to go to Chinatown in Philly for some acupuncture which was very interesting. I'm going back there this week, and hopefully I'll also be able to eat at the same place as last time. Anyways, I'll still continue this story so don't worry. I have some grand plans for the next chapter. Finally I'll be able to show off Zaitou, so be excited. **

**Belle is a weeb confirmed. Poor Niko Niko, being called an anime meme must really be degrading. **

**If Brazil didn't seem to be too surprised about Belle being alive, that's because he isn't. Belle mentioned this in the previous chapter, but she escaped to Brazil for a few years. This is a reference to the real life Confederates that escaped to Brazil and made their own communities. These Confederates would soon intermarry with the locals, birthing the Confederados that still live in these communities today. They built a city called Americana and use the Confederate battle flag, which does not have the same connotations it has up here in the states. **


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